


Wildflower

by ealamusings



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Bigotry & Prejudice, Centennial, Cross-over story, F/M, Native American!Katniss, Pioneer!Peeta, Sexual Content, everlark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:11:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 110,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ealamusings/pseuds/ealamusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story set in the mid-1800s, during the pioneer migration and settlement of the West. Peeta, a disgraced Mennonite, flees his conservative community in Pennsylvania, seeking a new life in Oregon. On the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, mourning the death of the young wife who fled with him, his life intersects with Katniss, the daughter of an Arapaho mother and a French Canadian fur trapper.</p>
<p>In an act of compassion, Katniss’s mother and stepfather, knowing their daughter also faces an uncertain future, send Katniss to find the despondent Pennsylvania-Dutchman, in the hopes that by doing so, the two of them can save each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Katniss

**Author's Note:**

> My deepest gratitude goes to four people: (on tumblr) otrascosasseries for her brilliant banner! And to finduilasnumenesse, titania522 and papofglencoe for their patient and thoughtful assistance. Their beta-ing, prereading and excellent suggestions have been invaluable! 
> 
> Though this story contains some reference to other pairings, this story is very Everlark in nature.
> 
> A little background on the genesis of this fan fiction:  
> Last year I was reminded of the novel and miniseries Centennial. It got me thinking, so I decided to reread Michener’s epic tale of the history of Colorado. As I suspected, I saw great potential to adapt the story of Levi Zendt and Lucinda McKeag into an Everlark fanfic due to several interesting parallels.
> 
> For fans of the novel and miniseries, you will recognize many elements of the source material. I have however, made some changes to more closely parallel THG, especially in my adaptation of Katniss. Just as Michener fictionalized certain events, I have done the same for Wildflower and taken some liberties with the history to better fit this story. 
> 
> I am not, by any stretch, an expert of this place and time or Native American culture. Telling a story so wrapped up with the culture and the racial bigotry of that period is a great challenge for me. It is my hope and intention to be sensitive to these elements, while still respecting the era in which the story is set.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, Centennial or the characters depicted in those two stories. I am indebted and grateful to the creators of both these works for the inspiration that they have provided.

 

**PART 1 - Fort John, Oregon Trail (July, 1844)**

**Chapter 1 - Katniss**

Katniss reined in her pony at the top of the grassy knoll that offered a view over the plains. Just to the east lay Fort John, the last stop on the Oregon Trail before entering the Rocky Mountains. It had been home, but also a cage of sorts, for the last several years, ever since her parents had taken over running the general store at the fort.

A gust of wind blew across the prairie and she turned her face into it, savoring the cool caress after a long day of riding and hunting in the foothills. Stray strands of black hair fell into her eyes, which she smoothed back behind her ears to rejoin the two long braids that framed her face and hung to her waist, thick and glossy.

She wore a deerskin dress adorned with fringe edging and intricate detail across the shoulders. Flowers. They were on everything that she owned. Her elkskin bow case and quiver, matching the design of her dress, featured flowers of various types and colors in the lovely bead and quill work crafted by her Arapaho mother, Laughing Bird. She had even been named after a flower.

Katniss had been born in a rare year in which the perfect balance of abundant snow melt and early spring warmth brought forth a profusion of wildflowers. As a child she had delighted in her mother’s explanation that the wildflower bloom was a good omen, reminding their people that even through the hard years when the flower seeds lay dormant in the ground, there was the promise of better times ahead.

At seventeen years of age, she was less inclined to believe in the superstitions of her Indian heritage and adopt the agnostic views of her stepfather. Or at least she was more likely to observe how transitory the wildflowers were, withering quickly in the dry spring heat of this arid region.

Her father, a French Canadian fur trapper, a ‘coureur des bois’ known solely by the anglicized name Everdeen, had died when she was a baby. The only man she knew as father was her mother’s second husband and Everdeen’s former partner and friend, Haymitch Abernathy. Hailing from Aberdeen, Scotland, he had lived as a mountain man, trapping and trading at her father’s side until the strain of Haymitch’s unrequited love for her mother had finally driven the two men apart.

Typical of relationships between white trappers and native women in those days, Laughing Bird’s first marriage was one of convenience. White trappers such as Katniss’s father and stepfather, respected the Indian’s claim to their lands back then. The marriage had served to facilitate trade between Everdeen and the Arapaho tribe to which her mother belonged, which gave him unencumbered access to their lands to trap for valuable beaver pelts. While Laughing Bird had preferred Haymitch to his more assertive partner, Laughing Bird had respected her father’s choice.

Though Everdeen treated her with affection, he likewise maintained another fortuitous marriage with his well-connected, white wife back in St. Louis, to his partner’s consternation. There was talk that there were other wives, too, in Montreal and New Orleans, though it was never proven.

“His true love was his passion for the life of a mountain man,” Haymitch would say when Everdeen came up in discussion.

Despite their rivalry, it had broken Haymitch’s heart when Everdeen had died, and it was for both his friend’s sake and out of his devotion to Laughing Bird that he had accepted her and her infant daughter as his own. This marriage had, for both of them, been made for love.

Katniss’s early nomadic years with her parents had been filled with adventure, but as time passed she felt the carefree years of childhood slipping away. She was reluctant to return to the fort. It was during her forays into the wilderness that she was most happy. It was in those moments that she didn’t feel trapped. When she could breathe.

It wasn’t that life at Fort John was bad. But things were changing. The fur trade was dying out. Settlers from the east with their wagons and dreams of a new life out West were the new reality. There was even talk that the American Fur Company was planning to sell the fort, which added even more uncertainty to her life. Few things could be counted upon to last, she warned herself, just like the elusive and fragile wildflowers in spring.

Katniss was about to give her mare a small kick to send her down the hill when she saw the rising plume of dust on the eastern horizon. The arrival of covered wagons always brought a whirlwind of trading as pioneers replenished their supplies for the final push over the Great Divide to the Oregon Territory. Her stepfather would be pleased. And would be anxious for her return to help at their store.

Just then she heard a low rumbling coming from the north. Below her, coming up the valley, was a small group of men on horses. Their blue uniforms were dusty from a day out on patrol, but she recognized the familiar form of one of the riders. Somewhat larger than his companions, and even after a full day in the saddle, he sat straight and tall. Dark hair and swarthy complexion from long days under the prairie sun. If he had been dressed in buckskin, he could almost pass for Native. Gale.

She reached for the bow case hanging from her saddle and waved it in the air. The breeze fluttered the fringe trim like a flag and caught the attention of his sharp hunter’s eye. She nudged her pony in Gale’s direction to intercept him, as he hung back of his group to wait for her.

Lieutenant Gale Hawthorne was a welcome addition to life at Fort John. He’d arrived along with the first snow the previous year as part of a small detachment of army cavalry. The soldiers were sent out to ensure the safe passage of the endless stream of settlers, and to scout out possible locations for future military forts to maintain the peace. It was rumored that they were the ones taking over Fort John. There weren’t many potential companions for a teenage, half-Indian girl here, so meeting Gale had been a pleasant turn of events. Good friends were hard to come by.

Gale, twenty-two years of age, hailed from New Hampshire. He was handsome, polite, well-educated and ambitious. Despite coming from vastly different worlds, he and Katniss had bonded over their shared love of hunting and adventure, which had enabled them to bridge their initial suspicion of each other.

For Gale, it was an ingrained distrust for the Indians he was trained to defend against, obstacles to the taming and settlement of the West. For Katniss, it was a lifetime of being seen as part of that obstacle. But whatever issues existed between them, they disappeared when they were hunting together. Out here, stalking prey, they worked as a team.

He grinned when she came alongside. “Hey you,” he said as a greeting. “Have a productive day?”

Katniss lifted the flap of her game bag to show him the contents, and replied with barely concealed sarcasm, “You, too?”

Her companion frowned, “Didn’t run into any trouble, if that’s what you mean. So yes, I’d call it successful.”

‘Trouble’ for the young officer meant the threat posed by Indian resistance to settlement. And it took the form of two men in particular - her brothers, Francois and Matthieu. Frank and Matt were older than Katniss, now in their thirties.

They loved their mother and sister, but had a strained relationship with their stepfather. Haymitch was introspective and cautious, the polar opposite of their father. Everdeen had encouraged his sons’ wild, fearless ways. He took pleasure in their irreverent temperament that was so much like his own.

It had been another source of the rift between Everdeen and Abernathy. While Haymitch could be a bit surly himself, he was more reticent to confrontation and had acted as the diplomat of the pair. After their father died, his attempts to provide discipline for his stepsons had not been successful. They left soon after Haymitch reappeared in their lives.

But now it was different. It wasn’t just about a clash of personalities. Her brothers were no longer simply rebellious; a life on the receiving end of white bigotry and cruelty had led them to turn to violence. It caused her mother pain and Haymitch’s jaw to clench when the infamous Everdeen brothers came up in conversation. Because in this new world, an angry, vengeful Indian was synonymous with a dead Indian.

When Gale had first learned that the outlaw Everdeen brothers were Katniss Abernathy’s kin, he had ranted about how it was their attacks on white lives and property that justified the army’s retaliation. Katniss had retorted that somehow when the tables were turned, men like her brothers were called criminals. She’d done her best to explain what it was like to grow up with feet in two different worlds but struggle to find a place in either one.

Katniss acknowledged that her brothers were killers. Even the Arapaho chiefs had rejected them as too dangerous, so they had taken up with a ruthless band of like-minded outcast braves with a score to settle. But it didn’t change the fact that they were her brothers and she loved them. Nor did it erase the injustice against the Indian tribes by white people. No matter how close she and Gale became as friends, this would always stand between them.

Gale had softened his tone as he and Katniss grew closer. It was a remarkable feat of forbearance that allowed him to maintain the relationship he did with the sister of such problematic men. These days his words were less about the righteousness of his side, though he believed it with conviction, and more about a warning of how Frank and Matt needed to lay down their weapons because they were on the losing side of this conflict. How things were going to end with the two of them dead.

As much as Katniss hated Gale for saying it, she acknowledged that he was probably right. Her mother’s people, the other tribes, no matter what they did, the odds were against them. The endless stream of people who sought to come here, to claim the land for themselves, was a force that she could not imagine a way to stop.

“You know, Katniss, it’s just the way it is. Settlers are coming west, no matter what you or I might think about it. Your brothers attack military supply and civilian wagon trains, and we have to respond. It isn’t personal,” Gale said.

“It is for me,” she answered.

Unlike her brothers, Katniss sought to fit in, but she saw the look in the eyes of the newcomers. To them, she and her mother were no more than potential thieves or savages. It was why she spent so much time in the foothills, tracking game and riding. It gave her a measure of empowerment. After all, who was she but an illiterate, half-breed Indian girl with a small talent with a bow and arrow? Away from the fort, she could be herself. Or maybe it was because out here she could disappear.

“You’ll never find them,” Katniss said more about herself than her brothers. Maybe in order to survive she needed to take a lesson from the animals she tracked. Hide. But then, that hadn’t saved the porcupine she had in her game bag.

“No one can hide forever, Katniss.” It was as if Gale had read her mind.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Gale spoke up. “It’s not always going to be like this. Mark my words Katniss, one day it’s going to be an amazing country. One I’ll be proud to hand over to my children.”

He meant it to cheer her up, but Gale talking about his imaginary future family irked her.

There had never been anything romantic between them, and at first Katniss had appreciated that about Gale. It was one of the reasons why she trusted him. It had set him apart from other unattached men that passed through the fort. She had been on the receiving end of more ‘proposals’ then she wanted. Dodgy fortune hunters or rough mountain men, even the occasional smooth-talking soldier would attempt to ply her interest with trinkets or use transparent flattery to lure her into dark corners. A few were even so bold as to offer trade goods, ponies or a few pelts to Haymitch for her, to which he replied with curses, tossing them out of the store with surprising strength for a man of sixty years of age.

But she came to understand as the months went on that for an ambitious officer such as Gale, who already talked about being promoted to Captain, that his reticence was due to her. An Indian wife wasn’t exactly an asset for advancement. Especially one with the name Everdeen. But at least he had respected the boundaries and hadn’t toyed with her affections. As far as men went, that was a huge point in his favor.

Katniss knew she should be grateful that he respected her enough to not cross that line when there could be no future for them, but somehow it depressed her. In a few months, his time stationed at Fort John would be up and he’d return to ‘the states.’ She would miss his company. And she would be left dealing with the hand fate had dealt to her.

Her options were limited. She could settle for one of the less offensive traders who passed through the fort. Her mother had been one of the lucky ones, and yet even she endured the slurs that came with being a white man’s ‘squaw’. Or marry within her mother’s people where acceptance was somewhat easier, only to condemn her children to a life of bigotry and injustice.

Gale may be optimistic for the family he planned to have one day, but it wasn’t her reality.

“I’m never getting married. Or having children,” she declared.

A brief image flashed in her mind. Gale back east living his promising life. Her brothers dead at the hands of the army. And then, one day, her parents gone, too. A cold chill of loneliness made her shiver.

“What’s got you in such a bad mood?” Gale asked. “You’re as prickly as that porcupine in your bag.” He had a smirk on his face and she was eager to change the subject.

“With the army likely taking over Fort John, we’ll need to move on. Haymitch has been talking about building a trading post of our own, a week’s ride southwest of here.”

“Why down there? There’s nothing around.”

“That’s the idea. It would be the only place to trade for miles. It’s land my mother grew up in. Good land. But Haymitch isn’t sure we can make a go of it.”

“What’s stopping him? Money?”

“No, I don’t think that’s a problem, though we could probably use more. He says what he really needs is a partner. Preferably someone who can read and write, since he can’t.”

“I’m sure he’ll work it out. Haymitch is a good man, he’d be a decent person to go into business with.”

“I saw wagons approaching, just before I saw you,” Katniss announced and she was rewarded with a grin.

“Well, why didn’t you say something sooner? Let’s get on with it!” Gale laughed and they kicked their mounts into a gallop, and raced for the fort.

Mr. Bennett, the proprietor of Fort John would host a dinner tonight for the newcomers. There would be some music and dancing after the meal. It added some appreciated entertainment to their lives, though for Katniss it generally meant lonely or lecherous men asking her to dance, since women were in short supply at the fort. But with Gale it wasn’t a hardship. He was fun and a good dancer. And he’d rescued her on more than one occasions from unwanted attention. Would-be suitors would vanish when faced with the tall, imposing man in his uniform, his slate-coloured eyes hard and threatening.

Once inside the fort’s gate, Katniss dismounted in front of her family’s store and rushed through the door.

“There’s a wagon train coming,” she said to Haymitch.

“Already heard about it,” her stepfather barked. “It’s about time you got back.”

Katniss ignored his gruff tone, and tossed her game bag up on the counter as her answer. Flipping open the flap she revealed the porcupine she had shot. That made him smile. Porcupines were hard to find around here, and the only reason she had it was because she’d ridden far. The quills were of high value to the various tribes who traded with them.

“Better not let your mother see, or she’ll want to keep them for herself,” Haymitch grumbled. But Katniss knew there was no way he would deny her mother anything she wanted, even if it meant losing a lucrative trade.

Just then, her mother entered the store from the back rooms that made up their home. At fifty-five years of age, Laughing Bird was still a beautiful woman. She had the high cheekbones and statuesque form that epitomized her Arapaho heritage. Katniss lacked her height, but in most other regards resembled her. She had inherited her smaller stature and grey eyes from her father.

“Did you see how many wagons?” her mother asked.

“I think four,” Katniss answered, smiling as her mother’s eyes lit up when she saw the contents of the game bag.

Haymitch gave a deep sigh, which prompted her mother to give him a kiss.

“Well, hurry up and go take care of your pony. There’s work to do,” he told his stepdaughter.

Katniss dashed out the door. She gathered the reins and led her mare towards the opposite end of the fort, through the opening in the partition that separated the living quarters from the stables.

Gale was finishing brushing down his mount when she arrived. She quickly removed her saddle and went to work brushing her mare.

“This’ll be one improvement when we leave Fort John, no more welcome parties,” she said. The dancing was one thing, but lately the suspicious stares were getting harder to tolerate.

“What? You used to like these things,” Gale replied.

“You know how some of these people can be.” She rolled her eyes. “At least you behave well. And you do clean up quite nice,” she added with a smirk.

Gale crossed his arms across his chest and scanned her up and down.

“What?” she snorted, “I don’t meet with your approval, Lieutenant?”

He frowned, “Oh yes, definitely room for improvement. Like how about wear something respectable this evening and not scare off our new guests with that getup.” He nodded at her bow case and quiver leaning against the wall. “You’ll have them pissing themselves thinking you're going to shoot them or take their scalp in their sleep.”

Gale smirked. Katniss scowled back at him.

“Never mind your brothers,” he continued, “You’re the one that’s got me terrified.”

Katniss threw her brush at him as he darted out of the stables. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you,” she snarked.

He gave a good-natured chuckle and added, “Save a dance for me.”

Katniss brushed the dust from her dress. She knew Gale was teasing her, but underneath the joke, she wondered just how deep it went with him. She had an eastern-style, fabric dress which she typically wore when welcoming the wagon train guests, but she loved her beautiful deerskin dress made by her mother’s skilled hands. She ran her fingers over the elaborate bead and quill design and combed through the fringe trim on one sleeve. She looked down at the matching leather moccasins and the leggings that laced from her ankles to her knees. She wore them with pride, regardless of what Gale thought about it.

And right then, she decided she would wear her Arapaho dress, just to irritate him.

Once her pony was secure in her stall, Katniss dashed out the stable door. She heard the sound of a team of oxen and a wagon pulling into the front side of the fort. That was new. Usually they remained outside the wooden battlement walls so the oxen could graze.

“Better get going, or Haymitch will have your hide,” Gale called out from across the corral where he was talking with his commander. She remembered her bow and quiver, forgotten beside her mare’s stall. Muttering under her breath, she darted back to the stables to retrieve them.

As she ran back outside, Gale yelled out, “Hurry!” laughing at her.

Just as she reached the passageway in the fort’s partition, she turned her head to yell a snarky retort over her shoulder at him, when she ran headlong into an unexpected obstacle in her path.

Katniss bounced backwards and fell onto her behind in the dirt. If it wasn’t for her arms propping up her body she would have landed flat on her back. Her face flushed red, half from embarrassment at her clumsiness, and half from annoyance at the person who had gotten in her way.

She was debating which emotion would frame her response when her eyes traveled up to the source of her impediment’s face. And she was rendered speechless. She’d never seen anyone who looked quite like the young man standing before her.

He was medium in height, with a stocky and muscular build - that much she deduced from their collision. His square jaw was framed by a neatly trimmed beard in a style she hadn’t seen before. It was a shade redder than the ashy blond hair on his head. The fair skin of his face was flushed a ruddy colour, either from the sun or exertion, or both. But it was his eyes, wide with mortification and shock, that stilled her tongue. They rivaled the blue of the summer sky behind him. Katniss had never seen eyes quite like that before. They reminded her of the columbine flowers that grew on the slopes of the mountains where she had been born.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and reached down to pick up her bow and quiver that had tumbled into the dirt at his feet. He extended his free hand towards her. Flustered, Katniss lay frozen, confused and wary. Then she noticed the black, flat-brimmed hat laying beside her, knocked off its owner’s head by the force of their collision.

She sighed. Of course, he was worried she might steal it, so he was holding her bow and quiver for some kind of ransom exchange. She was just another thieving Indian to him.

Katniss reached over to pick up the hat, and got to her feet. The young man dropped his empty, outstretched hand to his side. A brief, quizzical expression passed over his face.

Haymitch’s reminders about being polite to their customers echoed in her head. “It’s okay, I wasn’t looking where I was going. I was in a rush.” She held out his hat to trade for her bow and quiver and they made their exchange.

“I can see that. I was in a hurry, too,” he explained. He murmured a quick ‘thank you’ and added, “I was looking for the blacksmith.”

Katniss pointed in the direction, and he placed the hat back on his blond head after giving it a quick brush to free it from dirt. He tipped his head in a gesture of appreciation and stepped past her on his way to find the blacksmith.

She couldn’t help but stand fixed in her spot observing him as he walked away. She noted the unfamiliar attire - plain black trousers and suspenders, white shirt buttoned high but sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the hat - all lacking any decorative details and yet somehow managing to look oddly formal. The ashy blond hair curling from sweat at the nape of his neck. And the lingering impression of those startling blue eyes that had briefly met hers.

“Katniss!” Haymitch called, and giving her head a shake, she turned to see her stepfather standing on the steps in front of their store, his arms crossed at his chest. Their newest customers from the wagon train were filing past him to go inside.

“I’m coming!” she called back and ran across the yard and bounded up the steps.

“He was just being kind,” she whispered.

“What are you mumbling about?” Haymitch said.

“Nothing,” she answered, embarrassed that she had spoken the thought aloud, and slipped past him.

Because it occurred to her that the young man had held out his hand, not to regain possession of his belongings, but out of decency. He had offered it, as a polite gesture to help her to her feet. But then this fleeting revelation withered as she was met with the pinched, sullen expressions of several women at the counter. They gave off the air of weariness and impatience.

“You can help that one over there,” her mother said quietly, nodding her head over to the shelves at one end of the store. Katniss resigned herself to having to serve another peeved pioneer when she was surprised to see a girl close to her age. Despite her drab appearance, the girl had a warm smile. There wasn’t a trace of prejudice in her plain face.

The girl held out her hand in greeting and said, “Hello. My name is Delly Mellark. It’s nice to meet you.”

Relieved, Katniss reached out to accept the girl’s hand. She smiled and answered, “I’m Katniss Abernathy.”


	2. Peeta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (and future chapters) contains material that is sexual in nature. Though I have indicated this content in the tags, I felt that it was best to change the rating from 'M' to 'E' as a warning.
> 
> My deepest gratitude goes to four people: (on tumblr) otrascosasseries for her brilliant banner! And to finduilasnumenesse, titania522 and papofglencoe for their patient and thoughtful assistance. Their beta-ing, prereading and excellent suggestions have been invaluable!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has left comments and kudos! Your encouragement and kind words mean the world to me. :-)

**PART 2 - A remote location in the Eastern Rockies, (Spring, 1845)**

**Chapter Two - Peeta**

It was sometime in March when the first real blizzard blew in. At least Peeta thought it was March. It could be April by now for all he knew. The days had lost meaning long ago like so many dead leaves buried under countless flakes of snow.

It had been cold up on the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains. Peeta had been here for a month when ice began to form on the creek that supplied his drinking water. However, this was an arid climate, so ever since he’d been living in the cabin, the snowfalls had been insubstantial, dusting the surfaces in many thin layers of dry powder.

But this storm was different, drawing its ammunition from some wetter clime, freezing it into large flakes. It was the kind that drifted and stuck to a surface, wrapping it up and turning it into another indistinguishable feature of the landscape. Under the force of the stiff wind blowing off of the mountains, the snow stung as it swirled and bit into his exposed skin. The way it fell was disorienting and he grew concerned that if he didn’t hurry, he’d become lost in it.

He rubbed his hands together to restore some warmth. They were numb with cold and he couldn’t risk losing grip on the ax. The thought of having to wade into the frigid water below to retrieve it was unthinkable.

He gave a passing thought to Haymitch Abernathy, his business partner, and felt a moment of regret for deserting him and his family, and the trading post they were building together. When he and his wife, Delly had limped back to Fort John from the mountains, with a broken wagon, half their oxen dead and the majority of their possessions discarded, Abernathy’s offer had seemed like a godsend. One last chance to salvage something good from ignoble defeat. But it turned out to be a false hope.

He’d stuck around through the first few months following Delly’s sudden death, attempting to lose himself in the mind-numbing heavy labor of building the rudimentary structures of the new post. But by November, with the dwindling hours of sunlight, an inner darkness had gripped hold of him. On the day the first winter blast swept over their spot beside the river where the foothills met the plains, ripping the last leaves from their branches, something had broken loose inside him as well.

The evidence was clear. He had been rejected not only by his community, but by God himself. Why else would Delly have been taken, if not to remind him of this fact? The Abernathys had been kind and generous, and he convinced himself that if he remained, they too would feel the full penalty of his forsaken state. So that frosty day in early November, he came to a decision.

“Where’s that cabin you mentioned that you built up in the mountains?” he asked Haymitch as they gathered for the supper his wife, Laughing Bird, had prepared.

“Why?” the Scotsman asked, grim and suspicious.

The girl, Katniss, had spoken up next. “You don’t know what it’s like in these mountains in the winter.”

“It’s true,“ Haymitch had concurred.

“I’ve got my rifle, and I’ll take whatever supplies I can carry,” Peeta had responded.

“You’re not a hunter like Katniss, or a trapper like me. It isn’t like shooting critters that get into the hen house back on your farm in Pennsylvania.”

Peeta had a brief thought of his prosperous Mennonite community back home, and the shunning that had driven him to leave. He was also reminded of his eldest brother and patriarch of the family, Eli, and his particular words of condemnation.

“I’ll be fine,” was Peeta’s terse reply.

But they had been right. When Peeta first arrived, he had tried his hand at hunting, with modest success. He’d been the best shot in his family, but hunting was much more difficult than exterminating cornered vermin. After five months of self-imposed exile, he’d adjusted to a much reduced diet.

On top of that, just over a week ago, after the temperature had dipped yet again, he’d lost his supply of gunpowder. He’d spotted the rabbit, but in his haste to reach for the rifle slung over his shoulder, he had slipped on the icy rocks and tumbled backwards into the creek. The gunpowder flask had come loose and before he could grab it, it disappeared under the ice.

Peeta had tried to follow it downstream but soon gave up. His waterlogged clothes sapped his precious body heat, and he knew he needed to get back to the cabin or risk hypothermia.

He didn’t get angry. He still had most of the pemmican Laughing Bird had insisted he bring with him. He could make it last for maybe a couple more weeks. He didn’t think beyond that point. Besides, running out of supplies was inevitable. What did it matter if it happened sooner than later?

No, he wasn’t in any way equipped to survive up here on his own. But then, surviving hadn’t really been his objective. That night a week ago, he had watched the moon and starlit sky vanish behind the cloak of clouds leaving him in cold darkness, and for the first time in his life he was aware of what it was like to be truly alone in the world.

He gripped the handle and brought the ax down on the thickening ice of the creek. Once a hole was open, he dipped the large cast iron pot down into the current and drew up his supply of water for the day. With the wind now at his back he returned to his cabin. When he got there, it was already half buried.

The term ‘cabin’ was a stretch since it was more of a log and sod hut built up against the cliff face. The roof was barely high enough to stand in, and it was very small, not much more than six feet wide and ten feet long.

Peeta had made some effort to fix up the shelter in which Haymitch had taken refuge for a winter. He’d patched the larger gaps, and made the door secure. He’d lined the fire pit with smooth river stones to better contain the heat at one end of the cabin, and threw a few evergreen boughs down on the dirt floor for a bed on the opposite side.

He placed the pot of water inside and reached for an armload of firewood from the pile just outside the door. If this storm stuck around, he would need to carefully ration it along with what was left of the pemmican. He slipped inside and dragged the small door closed behind him.

The next morning, he managed to dislodge the snow by kicking the door open. The landscape was unrecognizable. It was still snowing, the sky was thick with gray clouds and he couldn’t see beyond the tree line. He couldn’t even make out the creek anymore, buried under a layer of white. The cabin was encased in a couple feet of snow.

He dug out all the remaining split firewood and piled it up next to his fire pit so that he wouldn’t have to go outside for it. It would stay drier inside, too. He filled his pot with snow and set it beside the fire. When melted, it yielded a disappointing amount of water. He poured it into his canteen and repeated the task.

The next day, he crawled over to the door and attempted to kick it open again, but up against the weight of the accumulated snow and the winds that had sealed it shut, his efforts proved futile. After months of near-starvation, he lacked the strength.

When the storm finally blew itself out, the cabin was entombed so that it became difficult to distinguish day from night. It grew very quiet inside his shelter. Days turned into weeks. The pemmican ran out. It was somewhere around the time he’d stopped caring about eating anyway.

The fire burned out when he slept, and the wind would blow the snow over the hole in the roof that served as a chimney. So when he awoke, he would use his rifle barrel to free the snow from the opening and collected it with care in his pot. The sooty snow melt became his only water source.

He spent most of his time curled up on his bed trying to sleep, but found no rest. He was haunted by nightmares of the rattlesnake that had stricken Delly’s throat, and he awoke more exhausted than when he lay down. He only roused himself to add wood to the fire or refill his canteen. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he imagined that he was no different than a burrowing animal, so he lived like one.

Water and warmth. They were the only realities he allowed himself to care about anymore. Everything else had ceased to have meaning. Then one day, the wood pile was exhausted.

Peeta wrapped the blankets from his bed around his shivering body. He was wasting away, no longer the stocky, robust, twenty-four year old he’d been a year ago when he had left Lampeter. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this cold.

“Maybe it’ll do the boy some good,” he’d heard Haymitch mutter to his family. “Let him clear his head and work things out. Like I did that winter I spent up there by myself.”

Peeta’d had all these months up here alone with nothing to do but think. Without any human contact, the only voices he heard were his own dark thoughts. It hadn’t cleared his mind, it had only focused his despair. Now all that was left was the numbness that had gripped his soul. The lack of feeling in his extremities was no match for it.

He wondered what his family back in Pennsylvania was doing right now. Were they sitting down to another meal, gathered around a table obscenely overflowing with food - meats and vegetables, casseroles and preserves? They were bakers, so there would also be a selection of breads and desserts crafted in their own kitchen. Their baked goods were famous at the market in Lancaster. He couldn’t be certain, but in his imagination it was Friday, market day.

Were they thinking of him? Probably not. They had shunned him.

“Only fit to live among savages!” Eli had spit out in disgust that day last February.

Peeta had taken his brother’s words to heart, and a few weeks later, in a state of disgrace and anger, he’d bought a conestoga wagon, the Oregon Trail beckoning. It was supposed to be a new start, but it had led here instead. Perhaps it was divine punishment for the spirit of defiance that had been the cause of his downfall, he considered. Because after coming so far and fighting so many adversities, he’d ended his journey, a year later, here in the shadow of the Rockies, stripped of everything he’d brought with him. All that was left was the unbearable weight of guilt for the death of one person who had believed in his innocence.

Maybe if they hadn’t turned back at the Continental Divide after facing one too many setbacks. Or if he hadn’t been so selfish, not wanting to face the daunting journey alone, Delly would be living her unremarkable-but-safe life back in Pennsylvania. Or maybe if he’d loved her better she’d still be alive.

No matter, soon he’d be dead, too, and the pain of this life would at least be over. For a once vigorous young man used to hard work, he was now burdened by a lethargy that no amount of rest could relieve. Death at this point would be a mercy.

At some point he became aware of the sound of rhythmic dripping, and intense thirst roused him enough to drag the pot under the largest leak near where he lay. It was of little interest that the weather had turned and the snow began to melt.

One day, an intruder flung open the door admitting a gust of air that smelled like damp earth and leather. But it was the blinding assault on his eyes that made him turn away and bury his head in the blankets. A voice exclaimed dismay and it sounded so much like the stinging recriminations inside his own head that he covered his ears with his hands.

But then he felt gentle hands lifting his head, and water, sweet and cool, was brought to his lips. He was so parched with thirst that he drank obediently, and something in the gesture reminded him of his mother’s touch. Had she found him? His muddled brain considered the possibility.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered to her, and she stopped, frozen, and withdrew her hands and grew very quiet and still. For a moment he was worried that he had scared her away.

“I missed you, too,” she answered, but it wasn’t the right voice.

He couldn’t place it. But before his foggy mind could sort it out, he was jostled, rolled and manhandled. His attempts at protest were ineffective against the determination of his mysterious companion. The assault stopped, the door closed, and he was plunged back into darkness. Grateful, he returned to fitful unconsciousness.

As he lay in half-sleep, he dreamt that Delly’s hands reached for him, all the way from the cold grave and he thought she was there to pull him down into the ground with her. He longed to join her, and put an end to his misery. Odd, but the hands were warm. How could they be warm?

The next time he awoke, he thought that maybe it was night. His companion had built a fire and she was crouched in front of it. He rolled over, the feel of fur against his skin, and she turned towards him at the sound of his stirring.

He squinted in the dim light. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice raspy from lack of use.

“It’s Katniss,” she answered and crawled over and helped him sit up a bit. “Drink this,” she instructed and brought a mug to his lips. It was warm broth this time.

Katniss. From the family and trading post he had abandoned. When he was done, he lay back down and closed his eyes as she tucked the fur blanket around him. Whisper-soft fingers brushed the hair from his forehead.

“Just rest now,” she said, and it was filled with such solicitude that he did as he was told.

There was sunlight pouring in through the open door when Peeta next woke up, but a quick glance revealed that he was alone. The air was sweet and warm, and a canteen lay beside him. He reached for it and took a long drink. He sat up and noted with shame how clean the place was now. Katniss had been busy. His full bladder demanded his attention and he knew his companion would be offended if he didn’t go outside.

He went to get up and realized that he was naked. He glanced about, but his clothes, as well as his blankets, were nowhere to be found. So he gathered the buffalo robe blanket around his body and crawled to the door. He considered putting on his boots which sat at the entrance but decided the effort of tying up the laces was too taxing. In bare feet, on shaky legs he went outside for the first time in many weeks.

The bright sunlight made his eyes tear up, so he kept his face down. To the left of the door he saw his filthy clothes and blankets piled in a heap. He turned right and with one hand clutching the robe around his body and the other steadying himself against the outside wall of the cabin, he shuffled to the end of the structure until he reached the cliff wall. He hoped that would meet with Katniss’s approval.

His eyes were beginning to adjust by the time he returned to the door and this time he saw the pile of long branches and slender tree trunks. Katniss must have dragged some deadfall from the forest to replenish the firewood supply. Two ponies were grazing on new green shoots that carpeted the clearing. Peeta scanned the tree line, but the girl was nowhere to be seen.

Back inside the cabin, he returned to his bed and noticed for the first time the platform of woven willow branches and fresh evergreen boughs that she had made for him. A dense buffalo robe provided a soft mattress, and another lay rolled up to the side. He spread the robe he was wearing back over himself as a cover, but this time he did not sleep. His mind was a little clearer, and Peeta remembered why he was here. And he resolved not to cooperate anymore.

So when Katniss returned hours later and built up the fire again, Peeta ignored her. When it grew dark outside and she brought another mug of broth to him, he pushed it away. Instead, he rolled over onto his side, and lay with his face turned away, watching the reflection of flickering flames on the wall of the shelter.

“You have to eat,” she insisted.

When she nudged his shoulder, he replied, “Why won’t you let me die? I deserve to die.”

Peeta felt the buffalo robe lift behind him and then a hand on his bare back making gentle circles. But then memories of Delly surfaced - her shy touch, all the while apologizing for not being pretty, thinking that she owed him for rescuing her from a miserable life, for offering to marry her when no one else would. In his mind he saw her die again. He closed his eyes and tried to forget.

Katniss moved closer, the heat of her body radiating from where she lay next to him under the robe. He pulled away, rejecting her comfort. There was a pause, and then her hand slipped around to his front, and his breath caught in his chest at the feel of feather-soft lips kissing him between his shoulder blades. The sensation was electric, sending shivers of pleasure through his gaunt body.

Tears began to run down his face as he tried to suppress the sobs. It was all too much. Too intense after so many months of feeling nothing but numbness. His mind recoiled at the reminder of old sensations that Katniss’s touch evoked, while his body relished the feel of her hands as they travelled over his prominent ribcage and down the planes of his stomach.

He became embarrassed at how her hand awoke a reaction contrary to the pain he deserved. She slid closer until she lay flush against him; her lips and her breath were warm and alluring on the nape of his neck. And he became aware now that she was naked, too, the soft curve of her thighs and the feel of her breasts undeniably arousing. He felt shame that his body betrayed his misery, as he leaned back against her, craving her touch. The tears continued to fall, at this strange and confusing array of emotions.

“Why are you doing this?” he whimpered as he felt her tentative hand take hold of his arousal.

“Because we love you, Peeta. And we don’t want you to die,” she whispered with tenderness.

It felt so impossibly good, and his feeble resistance collapsed at the feel of her hand, his breath coming in gasps. Any thoughts of propriety vanished. What did it matter anyway? That old life was gone. Delly was dead. His family and community had cast him out. Lacking the strength to fight it, he allowed himself to become lost in the exquisite pleasure being offered to him, and stopped thinking about everything else except the heat of her body and the rhythm of her touch as she stroked him to completion.

It was cathartic, the release of tears, experiencing the sensation of something resembling life once again. A welcome emptiness flowed throughout his body, and Peeta’s brain struggled to process what had just happened. He promised himself he would figure it out in the morning. Because for now, a heavy sleep, not like before, but warm and restful, was pulling him into its embrace. Along with the girl wrapped around him under the buffalo robe.

He woke from the first satisfying sleep he’d had in months in the early predawn. He lay on his back and turned his head towards the girl at his side and watched her as she slept. She lay facing him, her lower outstretched arm served as her pillow, and the other lay across his body as if to guard against him leaving her side. Her hand lay palm-down on his chest, heavy and comforting.

Katniss’s face was more relaxed in sleep and he took the opportunity to study her without reservation. Her high cheekbones and thick, glossy, black hair spoke of her Arapaho heritage, though her olive skin was a shade fairer than her mother’s. The delicate nose and full lips along with the luminous, gray eyes that he had noticed the first time they met, must have come from her father’s side. She was achingly beautiful, and it confounded his senses at what she had done.

He wasn’t knowledgeable of traditions from Katniss’s heritage, but he was quite familiar with his own prudish Mennonite background. It could take months of careful consideration and planning to even begin a formal, but very chaste, courtship. Why had she done it? He thought of her parents, how they must have sent her to him. Her mother with her regal bearing but wise and gentle eyes. Haymitch with his gruff manner that barely concealed a rough affection for the people in his life. How intentional this all was, how they had committed their daughter to this venture. What Katniss herself had agreed to do.

She was a proud and independent-minded girl. He’d seen how she acted at Fort John, politely dancing and yet keeping the young men at a distance. Reserved, even a little intimidating, except with her family, and that young lieutenant who seemed to be on friendly terms with her. She had warmed up to Delly, though. But then, most people did. Had.

It was a mystery to Peeta that he mattered this much to the Abernathys. They couldn’t possibly need him that much. He’d already given them all his money to put towards the trading post. They were resourceful people and would have little difficulty in replacing him as a partner.

The next morning, Peeta awoke and Katniss was gone. He saw his clothing, clean and dry, folded at the foot of the bed. He dressed, rekindled the fire and went outside. She was coming up from the creek with a string of fish, and she rewarded him with an approving smile at the sight of him up and around. He was still very weak and wobbly on his legs, so she placed his arm around her shoulders and helped him back inside.

“You’re good at building fires,” she said, and he was glad that it pleased her.

“I was a baker back home. Lighting the fires in our ovens was one of my responsibilities.” It was the first time he had discussed details of his life back in Lampeter since he had left Pennsylvania behind.

Katniss’s eyes traveled down to his hands and the burn scars that lived there. She nodded and went to work frying the fish in the skillet. Neither of them spoke, and Peeta noted that she avoided looking at him. He wondered if it was due to what had happened the previous night, and he wanted to put her mind at rest.

“Katniss, what happened last night…” he struggled to find the words.

She kept her eyes on the skillet, but answered, “You wouldn’t eat.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t asking for you to explain, I just… I’d forgotten what it felt like. To feel alive again. I just want you to know that it was a kindness. Thank you.” He paused. “And I promise, I’m not trying to die anymore,” he said.

Her remarkable gray eyes met his, holding his gaze for a moment.

“I’m sorry to have been such a bother to you and your family,” he added when she failed to respond.

“It’s okay,” she answered. “I volunteered.”

His heart skipped a beat.

She handed him a plate with a very small piece of fish. He frowned.

“Just a little to start,” she said. “If it stays down, you can have some more in a while.”

He ate it obediently, and when he was done, she leaned over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

 _One kiss equals one piece of food_ , Peeta thought. He handed the plate back to her, wanting more. Not certain if it was for more fish or another kiss. Maybe both. He must have looked particularly pathetic, because she refilled his plate with another small serving. He grinned as she handed it to him and when she turned back to tend the fire, he thought he saw her smirk with satisfaction.

That night she rejoined him under the buffalo robes, but nothing else happened between them. Just the reassuring weight of her hand resting on his chest as she slept. But sleep eluded him.

Out of the darkness, Peeta heard the call of a lone coyote, low and mournful, and it filled him with the acute awareness of how empty and vast this place was. He turned again to gaze at Katniss’s face, so lovely in sleep. He still marveled at how it was that this beautiful girl was here with him, sharing his bed.

Then he heard it. The answering howls of first one coyote, than another, and another, until a chorus rang out echoing against the mountains.

And he understood. He wasn’t alone. Perhaps he had lost all his family connections back in Lampeter, but these people had accepted him, taken him in when he had lost everything, and made him a partner in their lives. He regarded Katniss’s hand as it lay across his chest, as if to protect him.

_‘We don’t want you to die.’_

He belonged to these people now and whatever rules existed back in Pennsylvania in that rigid society did not apply here. Survival transcended propriety. It was about valuing someone’s life more than tradition. It was raw, primal and pure. It was beautiful in its single-minded clarity.

Katniss and her parents had taken on a rescue mission.

 _‘Because we love you,’_ she had said.

Because these strangers cared enough to make whatever sacrifice was needed in order to save his life, to give him a reason to want to live.

He reached up and placed his hand overtop of hers and held it close to his heart. She shifted a little closer to him, and he rested his cheek against her silky head and drifted back to sleep.


	3. Start With Something Simple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has left kudos and comments! You have all been so encouraging. It is my hope that Wildflower continues to live up to everyone's expectations, and that it remains respectful to both original stories.

**Chapter 3 - Start With Something Simple**

Peeta chewed on a piece of the bacon that Katniss had fried up in the skillet for their breakfast, a question on his mind. “Katniss, how long have I been here?” he asked.

“About six months. It’s almost the end of April,” she replied.

The reality struck him. “I’ve been a widower longer than I was a married man,” he said. She reached out and touched his arm but said nothing. He gave a nod to reassure her that he was okay.

A short time later, Katniss announced, “I’m going to hunt today. Do you think you can make out on your own for a while?”

“I’ve been on my own for months,” he replied.

“Yes, and look how well that worked out for you,” she shot back, her eyebrows cocked.

She had a good point, Peeta had to admit.

When they were finished, Katniss gathered her bow and quiver and promised to not be gone long. He watched from the door as she disappeared into the trees.

Eager to contribute, Peeta decided to begin the day with a walk down to the creek to collect some water. Frustrated at becoming winded even after the small exertion, he set the pot down outside the cabin and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He happened to see his reflection in the surface of the still water. He frowned at the gaunt, unrecognizable person staring back at him.

His beard had grown unruly and his hair was shaggy and matted from months of neglect. Katniss had strung up a clothes line between some small trees. There were freshly washed towels hanging there along with his blankets. He considered the clothes he was wearing and his relative state of cleanliness since she had arrived. He closed his eyes and remembered gentle hands as she had cared for him. He gave his head a shake to clear the thoughts away.

While he warmed some of the water by the fire, Peeta directed his attention to his unkempt state. He didn’t have a comb, but using his fingers, he worked out the knots in his hair as best he could. Once the water was warm, he brought it outside and gave his hair and face a good scrubbing. He reached for one of the towels hanging on the line to dry off. Next, he finger-combed the damp, untangled hair away from his face and ran a hand over his beard to smooth it down. He took another look in his water mirror. Certainly nothing resembling his old self, but at least somewhat more presentable. Satisfied with the results, he stripped down and dumped the rest of the water over his body and when dry, redressed himself feeling refreshed.

Peeta sat down on the ground and leaned back against the wall of the cabin, his legs stretched out in front and closed his eyes. The ambient temperature was cool, but the air was still, and he soaked up the radiant heat from the sun.

He smiled, relaxed and comfortable, but then guilt and self-doubt gnawed at his new state of contentment. When he and Delly were forced to turn around and return to Fort John, Haymitch had insisted that he wanted him for a partner. Peeta wasn’t certain what it was that the man saw in him, but he and Delly had been grateful to the Abernathys. For their sake, and out of respect for their loyalty to him, he knew he had to push the dark thoughts away. He needed to move on.

Delly, along with everything that connected him to his life back east, belonged in the past. As much as it hurt to let go, it was time to live for the future. He had a responsibility to honor his obligations to this new life.

The image of Katniss and the memory of her touch returned once again, and he furrowed his brow. In the few weeks they all spent together before Delly died, the two young women had become close, but something about Katniss had made him keep his distance. He’d been devoted to his wife, but he couldn’t deny that she had an effect on him. It was stronger in this place, and more perplexing, with them alone together, sharing a bed.

After a rest, Peeta broke up some of the smaller lengths of wood that Katniss had gathered and built up the fire again. He went through Katniss’s supplies and was pleased to find flour, salt, and dried berries. He could make a simple dough from that. He wandered down to pet the ponies as they grazed close by. And he waited for Katniss to return.

The sun dropped behind the mountains and threw the cabin into shadow. He figured Katniss wouldn't be far away. As if on cue, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw her emerge from the trees, carrying a goose by its neck. When she reached the cabin, she inspected him with curious interest, but said nothing about his appearance.

“Can you help me pluck this?” she asked, and they went to work preparing their meal.

While the bird roasted, Peeta made his bread dough, adding the fat drippings to the other ingredients he had discovered. He placed it in the skillet, covered it with the lid and set it by the fire. When the meal was ready, Katniss approved of the simple bread, and Peeta breathed in the scent of their humble meal.

“I grew up with so much food, and I always took it for granted. But you know what? I wouldn’t trade this feast for any of what I had back there,” he told her.

Katniss smirked, “You could use a few decent meals.”

He smiled, “Until you got here, I hadn’t had anything fresh since I dumped my gunpowder in the creek.”

She patted her bow case. “That’s why I prefer this,” she said with a grin.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Peeta said, and the grin vanished from her face. He mentally kicked himself for making her uncomfortable. But instead of appearing annoyed, she bit her bottom lip as if uncertain what to say.

“I never knew anyone who could hunt with anything other than a gun,” Peeta explained. “I just meant that it’s an amazing skill.”

That seemed to smooth over the awkwardness, but it made Peeta realize just how upside down things were between them. Katniss was difficult to read, and he wished he knew what was going on in her head. He swallowed a mouthful of food and began again.

“It seems to me that under the circumstances, we should get to know a little about each other.”

She looked up at him. “I guess.”

“The thing is, I hardly know anything about you, other than you’re great with a bow and that you came all this way to save my life.”

He hoped that he hadn’t overstepped. Katniss reminded him of a skittish filly, spirited, but easily spooked. She remained quiet, chewing on a drumstick. He continued, “I’d like to learn about the things that are important to you.”

She shrugged. “There’s not much of interest about me to know.”

Peeta chuckled at the suggestion. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

She placed the drumstick on her plate and began to fidget with the fringe trim on her dress, her eyes fixed on the fire. Maybe he would need to take a different approach. “How about we start with something simple,” he said.

She looked up again. “Okay.” There was wariness in her voice. “What do you want me to tell you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about, what’s your favorite color?”

He was rewarded with the hint of a smile.

“Green. What’s yours?”

An image came to mind of the brilliant sunsets he’d witnessed while crossing the prairies, so he told her it was orange.

It was a start, Peeta thought with satisfaction. The rest of the meal was accompanied by light conversation. How did she learn to hunt? Haymitch had bought her a bow when she begged for one, and then she mostly taught herself. How many people were in his family? He had a widowed mother and four older brothers.

Back and forth it went, but they never strayed from the most superficial of topics.

That night as they prepared for bed, Peeta averted his eyes as Katniss turned her back to him as they undressed. She joined him under the robes as usual, holding him close, with her front pressed up against his back, her arm wrapped around him. Once again, nothing more happened, but he couldn’t help dwell on the warmth of her skin.

While he was satisfied that he and Katniss had managed to break the ice a little, it made him hungry to know more about his rescuer. When they’d first met, he hadn’t allowed himself to give much thought to how beautiful she was. But now it was impossible to ignore. He lay awake and wondered if he turned to face her, if he kissed her, would she kiss him back? Or if he went further. Would she willingly accept him? He suspected that if he made that advance, she might.

‘Because we love you, Peeta.’

He chastised himself at the thought that there was anything more than compassion behind her actions. Desperate times had called for desperate measures. Katniss wasn’t in love with him. He felt certain of that. What could a girl like her possibly see in someone like him? They barely knew each other. He wasn’t even certain of his own feelings so soon after months of living buried in grief. Even so, he was grateful for the feel of her lying there with him. He reached for her hand and brought it up to his lips and lightly kissed her fingertips before laying it back to rest over his heart, and soon joined her in sleep.

The next day, Katniss asked if he felt strong enough for a short walk.

“I think so,” Peeta answered, determined to build back some strength after all this time.

Spring was in the air, and many of the trees and shrubs were budding out. The scent of the crisp air and the penetrating brightness of sunlight after such a long drought to his senses were intoxicating to Peeta. Katniss pointed out various plants, explaining their usefulness, and identified signs of animal presence. She described how her Arapaho ancestors had spent time here.

Peeta thought of his beloved hardwood trees back home, large and ancient, but they paled in comparison to this place. Along with the groomed and fenced farmland, the pampered and pruned trees were so tame compared to what lay before him. His old home could not compete with the jagged cliffs, the wilderness, all so immense and imposing. Just to stay alive in this land was an accomplishment worthy of pride. He came to the realization that he could love this place.

When he grew tired, they stopped and shared a snack of dried fruit and leftover roast goose. Peeta was pleasantly surprised when Katniss was the first to make conversation this time.

“What was it like, your trip out here in your wagon?”

“It could be stressful when wagons would break down. Sometimes it was boring, just long days plodding along. There were some scary moments, too.”

She leaned forward, curious. “Like what?”

Delly had almost drowned at a river crossing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring up reminders of her just now. But one remarkable encounter did come to mind.

“I was on watch one night. It was just before dawn and our guide had ridden ahead to scout the trail we would travel that day. At first I thought it was birds. But something wasn’t right.”

He glanced at Katniss, with her elbows on bent knees, her chin resting in her hands.

“Our guide had warned us about Indian raiding parties, claimed that they’d slaughter us in our sleep. I’ll admit I’d grown up with little knowledge to dispute him. He told us that if the notorious Everdeen brothers ever showed up, we better shoot first or risk the consequences. He said we’d know the older one by the scar running down his face. But our guide also said that if Frank Everdeen got close enough for us to see it, it would probably be too late.”

Katniss frowned, but said nothing, so he continued.

“Our guide had already revealed what a hateful man he was, but we were stuck with him for the journey. I’d seen all these buffalo carcasses along the trail, left rotting. When I asked about it, he said that maybe if we killed all the buffalo, we might starve out the Indians. I was appalled, for both the cruelty and the wastefulness of good meat. We didn’t own this land we were passing through, and most of the Indians we saw at the forts along the way were a wretched bunch. Anyway, once I realized it was people, not birds, in the brushes, I only had a few seconds to react.”

“What did you do?” Katniss asked, her brows furrowed.

“I fired a shot over their heads. I was raised with the belief that to use violence is a grievous sin. And after what I had seen, the thought of killing without provocation felt wrong.”

Katniss smirked, “Wouldn’t exactly make you a very effective guard.”

Peeta chuckled. He could still hear Eli giving his tiresome prayers, petitioning God to ‘deliver Brother Peeta from his inclinations to defiance and humble his wayward spirit.’

“Yeah, I guess I was never very good at doing what I was told. Anyway, it was foolhardy of me. It would take over a minute to reload, and I’d been careless and left the other loaded rifles out of reach. It would also take time for the others to come to my aid. The leader emerged from the brush, his rifle trained on me but he didn’t shoot. He knew I was defenseless, that I’d used my one shot as a warning instead.”

“What did he do?” Katniss was captivated.

“He waved a group of six braves into the camp, just as our men came crawling out of their wagons, going for their rifles. The braves didn’t seem intent on killing me just then, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

“What’s that?” Katniss’s eyes were wide in expectation.

“I asked them if they wanted breakfast. I said it was to say ‘thank you’ for letting us cross their land.”

Peeta was pleased when Katniss gave him a smile.

“It seemed a small way to apologize, for all the dead buffalo. Their leader laughed at me and gave me this crooked grin. By then everyone in our group was confused, not knowing what to do. It was tense but okay. I told Delly to go get the bacon, and just then our guide came galloping in and tried to shoot the leader, but I was able to knock the barrel so it fired wide. He yelled for one of the other rifles, but everyone just froze. The braves disappeared into the brush and we heard them ride away.”

He paused, and shook his head. “But before he turned away, the sun was coming up and I saw it.”

“What did you see?” Katniss asked.

“The long scar running down the leader’s face.“ Peeta turned to face her. “I’d just put myself at the mercy of the infamous Everdeens and lived to tell about it.”

“You sound like my father. That’s how he won over my mother’s father. They could have killed each other, but instead they earned each other's respect.”

It warmed Peeta to hear admiration in Katniss’s voice. “I wish I had known Haymitch back then when he was a young man first come to this country,” he said.

Katniss’s voice grew solemn. “Haymitch is my stepfather. He married my mother when I was little so I took the name, Abernathy,” she said. Peeta’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “My real father’s name was Everdeen.” She paused to let it sink in. “Those braves you encountered? Two of them are my brothers.”

Peeta blew out a deep breath, sat back and said, “Huh. How about that? Well now I’m really glad I didn’t try to shoot them.”

“I’m glad they didn’t try to kill you either,” she said with a wide grin. Katniss wasn’t a girl given to smiling freely, so it stirred something in him that it could have anything to do with his life being spared.

The smile disappeared and her eyes grew dark with emotion. “You want to know how Frank got that scar?” Peeta nodded. “He was just a little boy. A soldier at one of the forts where our father traded gave it to him. Frank was just curious about his sword and the man accused him of trying to steal it and cut his face with it.”

Peeta shook his head in disgust. “It makes my shunning pale in comparison, to do that to a child. At least I was full-grown when I got accused.”

“What’s ‘shunning’?” Katniss asked.

“It’s when you do something so terrible, so against our church’s teachings, that they forbid anyone to have contact with you. It means being an outcast within your own community.”

“What did they accuse you of?”

Peeta sighed. It wasn’t a subject he wanted to bring up, but he refused to lie. Katniss deserved to know. “A girl claimed that I tried to rape her.” He watched her closely, nervous to see her reaction. To his surprise she gave a snort and chuckled.

“And they believed her?” she said. “I’ve spent only a couple months around you and I know you could never do that!”

It touched Peeta that Katniss never asked if it was true. Instead she asked, “So everyone believed this girl and she didn’t come clean?”

“There was more going on that I didn’t know, and I was naive. This girl told me to kiss her, out of the blue. She was pretty and I was flattered, so I did, even though it was highly improper. But I got clumsy, and her dress got ripped. It turned out that she was using me to make my brother jealous and his pride got wounded. Eli was angry and she was too embarrassed to admit the truth, so I was an easy target.”

Katniss frowned. “That’s so unfair.”

“If I had been willing to confess and ask forgiveness, the shunning would have ended after few months, but I knew that accusation would stick with me for the rest of my life, so I left.”

“Delly knew better,” Katniss added. “She never would have married you otherwise.”

“Yeah, other than my mother, who would never take a stand against Eli, she was the only one who believed me.”

“Delly told me you used to deliver donated food to the orphanage where she lived.”

“That’s how we met. She said that people had been shunning her all her life, too, because nobody ever wanted her. It’s one of the reasons why I asked her to come west with me. Asked her to marry me.”

He recalled the shock on Delly’s face when he pulled up to the orphanage in his wagon. And how she had run inside without a moment’s hesitation to collect her few possessions when he invited her to join him. They had only spoken a couple of times before that day.

Katniss let out a huff. “So much ruckus over a kiss and a ripped dress, as if that’s a big deal.”

Peeta explained how where he came from, that kind of unchaste behavior was unacceptable. As soon as he said it, he saw Katniss’s eyes grow narrow and regretted the implication of his words.

“You must think we’re just a bunch of savages, that someone like me doesn’t measure up to your idea of morality,” she spit at him.

Considering their circumstances, he was mortified at how it must sound, that he had said something to insult her.

“I don’t think that at all,” he replied in earnest. “I think you are generous and brave, and you have more compassion in your little finger than most of the people I knew back home. And I was stupid to say it the way I did.” He looked down at his hands folded in his lap. “I grew up in a family of hypocrites, and I didn’t know any better. Not until I came out here. Delly was the one who read books and learned about the world. Not me.”

Mollified, Katniss asked, “Why? I thought you went to school, too.”

“Only until I was fourteen. And only enough to know what was needed to do my profession. Anything more was considered frivolous. But Delly wasn’t Mennonite. The orphanage was run by the Episcopalians, and she had a great curiosity about things. It’s something I admired about her. How smart and knowledgeable she was, even though she grew up poor compared to me.”

Katniss looked up at the sky. “She offered to try to help me learn to read. Before she died.” She paused, then turned to him. “Maybe you could teach me.”

“Well, I’m not Delly, but I could try,” he answered, and they both grew quiet.

The image came to his mind, of Delly as Haymitch laid her in the ground, just a day’s ride away from where they were supposed to build the trading post and their new life together.

Katniss must have had a similar thought because she said, “I miss her, too. She was my friend.”

“Mine, too,” Peeta whispered. “The best one I could have hoped for coming out here. Before I met her, I didn’t know that men and women could be friends.”

“You were more than friends,” Katniss added.

Peeta nodded. They had bonded over their shared outcast state and the trials of their journey west. “We barely knew each other when we married. But I grew to love her.” A wave of melancholy washed over Peeta. “She’d still be alive, back in Pennsylvania, if it wasn’t for me.”

“Delly adored you,” Katniss said with conviction. “She told me that she’d admired you from a distance, long before you ever noticed her. You made her happy, and offered her the chance for a better life.”

“She never got it though.”

“For the time you were together, she did. I didn’t know her well, but like you said, she was smart. She knew the risks and still chose to come with you. I don’t believe that she regretted it for one day. She got to know what it was to be loved, even if it was for a short time.”

Peeta searched her eyes for any sign of insincerity and saw none. He closed his eyes and remembered the sweet girl who had been his wife and companion as they crossed the prairie. And he was filled with gratitude to the girl in front of him for helping to lift the burden of guilt he carried.

“She would want you to be happy, too,” Katniss continued. “To fulfill the dream you both sought.”

Peeta resolved from that moment to do his best. He owed her that.

“And now you’re my friend,” Katniss said, but then grew pensive. “My only one.”

He considered what she had said. “What about that young Lieutenant back at Fort John? The one you danced with at the welcome dinner they had for us? I got the impression there was something more between you two.”

“Who? Gale? No.” She glanced at Peeta before continuing. “I mean, he was a friend, but it wasn’t like that between us. We only got to know each other over a few months, and he was due to leave Fort John shortly after we all left to go build our trading post. We both liked hunting and we got along well. But…”

“But what?”

She shifted as if uncomfortable and scowled. There was a bite in her words when she spoke. “It’s different out here. For men like him, I may be suitable in this place, but not back where they come from. So there was never more to it.” Peeta was ashamed to admit that the news about Gale was welcome. “My father had a white wife, in St. Louis. Did you know that is common? One was for out on the prairies, but a proper, civilized one back home.”

Peeta frowned. “I didn’t know about that. But I do know one thing.”

She looked at him, still agitated, “What?”

“You would be more than suitable anywhere you chose to go. Anyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot. And blind.”

It made him happy to see the little smile that flashed across her face. But then her eyes focused on something behind him and she grew serious as she reached for her bow. Peeta turned to look over his shoulder and saw the rabbit darting across the clearing. Katniss dropped it with one arrow.

“Like I said. Amazing!” Peeta exclaimed. Katniss grinned with pride.


	4. Outtake - Delly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a flashback to the previous summer. Told from Delly's POV, it fills in some more details of Peeta and Delly's life, and what brought the Abernathys and Mellarks together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Outtake is for readers who expressed interest in learning more about the backstory of the characters, including what happened between the first two chapters. It is also a tribute to Delly. Fans of the original character Elly in Centennial will agree that she deserves her moment in the spotlight.

**Outtake - Delly (August, 1844)**

Delly scanned the ground around her, moving in a wide, slow circle around the spot that she, Peeta and the Abernathys had selected to spend the night. She was searching for buffalo chips, the dried patties of dung. She had her apron gathered in one hand, forming a pouch at her waist in which to collect them.

Crossing the prairie, where any kind of wood was difficult, if not impossible, to find, these chips had become the most reliable source of fuel for their fires. It had taken some getting used to the idea at first, but after months on the Oregon Trail, they’d adapted, and Delly had developed a sharp eye for spotting them.

She liked to think it was simply her resourceful and tenacious nature. Peeta liked to joke that she was an especially good bullshit detector. Their new partner, Haymitch had laughed with particular mirth when he first heard that praise. And he’d wholeheartedly agreed with her husband. It made Delly feel proud.

“Ah, there you are!” she said and snapped up another round disk from the tall grass to add to the growing collection in her apron. She straightened up, stretching to relieve her back after bending over during her search. She glanced back to their camp, where Peeta had just finished unharnessing the oxen from their tackle. The task complete, he wandered over to give Haymitch a hand with the long poles that provided the structure for the tipi the Abernathys used for shelter as they traveled.

She and Peeta still had their wagon. Well, actually only half a wagon now. They’d been forced to saw off the back portion near the Continental Divide when the problematic rear wheel had finally become irreparably broken. Which meant discarding much of their belongings. They had made the difficult decision to separate from the rest of their group and turn back. On top of that, their plodding, faithful oxen began to die. They only had four of them left by the time they limped back to Fort John in their two-wheel cart, without any idea of what they would do.

“It’s like everything is against us, Delly,” Peeta had said. “How can we know what calamity will strike next?”

She had hated seeing her husband so defeated. To turn back was an admission of failure.

The oxen and the Abernathys' ponies grazed nearby, and Laughing Bird was unpacking the buffalo skins to place over the tipi poles. Delly smiled when she saw Katniss approaching, her bow in hand.

“I’m sorry I’m not helping,” she apologized. “But I thought we might like something fresh for supper tonight. I’m going to go and see if I can maybe find a rabbit or prairie chicken.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Delly replied. She nodded down at her stash of buffalo chips. “I’ll have plenty in no time.”

But instead of carrying on, Katniss sat down, so she joined her. Katniss was somewhat reserved, and Delly had learned to start conversations with her new friend.

“Sometimes I feel like I need to pinch myself,” Delly said.

“What do you mean?” Katniss asked.

“To remind myself this is all real. It’s amazing how things turn out,” Delly said. “Six months ago I would never have dreamed I’d be here, married to Peeta, with you and your family, only a day away from where we’ll be building a new business together. When Peeta and I had to turn back from the mountains, we were feeling so awful. And then you came riding over to welcome us back to the fort. I can’t tell you how much it meant when your father made us the offer to go into partnership.”

Katniss smiled, her hand picking at the grass in which they sat. “You were doing us a favor, too.”

“I’m sorry we’re taking you away from your life at Fort John, though. It must be hard to leave all those people behind to come live way out here alone with just us.”

Katniss gave a small shake of her head, “Not everyone is as nice as you.” She glanced back at their camp. “Or Peeta.”

Delly followed her gaze to where Peeta was helping Haymitch to hoist the poles into position. “Yes, he is nice,” she said with a grin.

She glanced back at Katniss, and saw that she was blushing.

Delly reached over and patted her hand. “Peeta has that effect on me, too. He did long before he ever knew I existed.”

She grew pensive thinking back to her life in the orphan asylum in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where she had been abandoned as an infant.

“Every Friday afternoon, he’d bring the leftover items from the market to the orphanage where I lived. Other merchants and wealthy families did, too, but he was the only one who was actually considerate to me. Always insisting on carrying the heavy stuff inside, even when the headmistress told him their charity was enough and to just leave it for me.”

Delly remembered how she had grown to anticipate those few moments of contact. How her heart would race when she heard the Mellarks’ cart coming down the drive. She’d started making attempts to look nice, though she knew it was futile. Not only was everything she wore secondhand and unattractive, one glance in the mirror revealed the scrawny seventeen-year-old with the plain face and stringy hair that no amount of effort could make look pretty. She couldn’t conceive of a way that a wealthy, handsome man like Peeta Mellark would ever give her the time of day. If she was a bone-thin work horse, he was a fine stallion. So she tried, without success, to put any such notions out of her head.

Despite an admirable work ethic and a pleasing disposition, no one had been convinced to accept the unfortunate girl. In a couple of years, she would be forced to leave the orphanage. As much as she longed to leave, Delly had begun to hope that they would keep her on, in the capacity of servant. She’d worked harder to try to secure a place there. Voraciously reading with the thought that they might consider her an asset to the other children in the orphanage. Because she knew, there wasn’t a man worth having who would marry her.

But then one day, she heard the gossip about the youngest Mellark brother and the butcher’s daughter. Impossible! There was no way such a decent person as Peeta could do such a thing. The girl who accused him was a spoiled rich girl. And an attractive one, too. If only I was that pretty, she had thought.

She did a bold thing the next time Peeta came by with a delivery. She finally spoke to him, like an equal who understood what he was going through. “I know what it’s like to be shunned,” she had told him, and to her surprise he spoke to her as a friend. She may not be a Mennonite, she explained to him that day, but she had spent her entire life being unwanted.

Delly looked at Katniss. “I’d lay in bed and think, if only I could know what it was like to be loved by someone like that. For even just one month, even one day, I could be happy for the rest of my life.” She sighed, and then she smiled.

“You can’t imagine what it was like, the day Peeta drove his team of horses and that conestoga wagon up the drive and called for me. I didn’t know what I was facing, but I knew that if I didn’t get in that wagon, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”

“You were very brave,” Katniss said.

Delly gave a small chuckle. “My boldness at finally speaking to him paid off. That someone like Peeta would notice me, let alone marry me, made me feel like I could face anything. It’s what made me brave.”

Katniss had that faraway look in her eye that Delly had often noticed. “I hope that someday you find someone who makes you feel that way, too.”

Katniss frowned and shook her head. “I’m not looking for that.”

Delly regarded Katniss, noting how beautiful she was. Growing up a homely girl, she had a special affinity for beauty, appreciating it wherever it could be found. Regardless of what Katniss said, she felt bad to see her friend alone.

“I should get going if I’m going to bring home any supper,” Katniss said and got to her feet.

“I’ve been thinking about a plan to teach you to read,” Delly said as she rose. “When we get settled, we can start right away.”

“Thank you, Delly.” Katniss gave her a hug and headed off.

Delly returned to their camp with her apron full of buffalo chips and dumped them beside their fire spot. She walked over to the back of their wagon where Peeta was unloading some of their things to make room for them to sleep that night. She threw her arms around him.

“Hey! I’m all sweaty!” he laughed.

“I don’t mind,” she replied. “Remember what I’ve been collecting?” But instead of releasing him, she rested her cheek against his chest, her arms clasped round his waist.

“Hey,” he chuckled. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I’m just happy.”

When she finally let go, Peeta said, “I was thinking of taking a short ride before supper if that’s okay. This is going to be our new home, and I really want to get to know the area better.”

“I don’t mind. Maybe by then Katniss will have something for our supper.” She paused. “I can’t help think that she’s lonely. She’s such a lovely girl, don’t you think?”

Peeta shifted his feet, and furrowed his brow. He didn’t say anything.

“It’s okay, you know,” Delly said. “Having an eye for beauty isn’t a weakness. It’s something to be proud of.”

Peeta hugged his wife again. “Well, it must be the mountain air,” he replied. “Because you’ve never looked prettier.” Delly blushed, taken by surprise, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m serious, Dell. You’ve got color in our cheeks, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve finally filled out from the twig I married.”

She gave him a grateful smile, and felt her throat tighten up with emotion.

“Well, I better go before it gets dark.” He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

She watched as Peeta walked over and said a few words to Haymitch, and then climbed onto the bare back of one of the ponies. Delly admired him as he rode off, heading west. Peeta had a knack with horses. She remembered the day he’d been forced to sell his team of beautiful gray ones for the recommended oxen. They hadn’t technically been his horses, they belonged to his family. But he had ‘borrowed’ them, he’d admitted with a wink on that fateful day they rode out of Lancaster.

It had broken his heart, and hers watching him as he hung his head fighting back tears, as they led them away. She longed to comfort him, and secretly hoped that one day he might love her as much as that team of horses. After today, after all these months and everything that they had endured together, she thought that maybe he actually did.

Peeta reined in the pony when he reached Katniss, who was crouching near the top of a small rise in the prairie. It must be a good vantage spot for spotting game, Delly reasoned. Katniss rose when he approached and patted the pony’s neck. Peeta pointed at something in the distance and Katniss gestured in reply.

The heat rising from the ground made the air shimmer around them. With the mountains as a backdrop and the lowering sun in her eyes, Delly was momentarily awed by the site. She couldn’t help admire the tableau before her. It filled her with happiness and optimism as she imagined what lay ahead for them all.

Peeta must have said something funny, because she heard Katniss laugh. It was nice that she was starting to come out her shell around them. Katniss gave the pony one last pat and made a turn to the right to walk down the side of the hill. Peeta galloped up and over the rise, and disappeared from view.

With her husband out of sight, Delly looked inside the back of the wagon. She reached into her purse and drew out a piece of paper and unfolded it. The minister’s wife had written it out, signed it, and given it to them so that Delly would have proof that they were married. It wasn’t official, of course.

The minister they had sought out after they left Lancaster told them that without a proper license, and given that she was a runaway and Peeta an outcast from his church, their only option was something called a ‘Marriage-in-Common.’ The two of them simply needed to state their intentions in the presence of two witnesses, which in their case, was the minister and his wife.

“But other than the four of us, who would know it was real?” Delly asked when she realized she’d have nothing concrete to show that she and Peeta were married.

“That’s not how it works,” the minister said. “This isn’t a formal arrangement.”

All the weight of having never been a part of a legitimate family pressed down on Delly, and she had threatened to cry. While Peeta tried to comfort her, the minister’s wife took pity on her. She said that if her husband wouldn’t provide a paper, she would.

Delly reread the words on the church’s stationery and then carefully folded the document and replaced it safely in her bag.

Next, she took out the small mirror that Peeta used for shaving. She avoided using it unless necessary. Despite the confidence that had come with being married to Peeta, a lifetime of being a painfully plain girl had a lingering impact. But today she saw what her husband had described. The pink in her rounded cheeks where there used to be a thin, sallow-faced girl. She ran her hand over the curve of her hips that was new.

They were starting a new life here at the foot of the great mountains. Delly smiled and ran her hand over her belly. And now another new life. She hadn't planned to tell Peeta until they arrived at their new home. It seemed fitting somehow to celebrate their arrival with her announcement. But she felt anxious to share the news. She decided to tell him tonight, once he returned from his ride.

Delly walked over to where Haymitch and Laughing Bird were building the fire, and said she was going to go collect some more buffalo chips so that they would have enough for the morning.

“Thank you, Delly,” Laughing Bird said with a warm smile.

“I feel like it’s me and Peeta that owe you,” she replied.

“Oh, I’d say you’re here on your own merits,” Haymitch answered. “Learning that Peeta had experience helping to run a family business, not to mention the money you two were able to contribute, was certainly appreciated. But it was Katniss who insisted we approach you when you returned to the fort.”

That was news. “I’m not sure how we made such a big impression,” Delly said.

“Well, she figured Peeta was a gentleman, but you know what really clinched it?” Haymitch asked. When Delly shrugged, he answered his own question. “It was the way you smiled at her when she came into the store that first time you met.”

How about that? Delly found it hard to imagine how such a small gesture could have had such a profound impact on their lives. To think that a simple act could have brought them together.

“I’ll come and help you,” Laughing Bird offered.

“No, that’s okay,” Delly answered. “It’s really more of an excuse for me to just enjoy the evening.” She wanted to take a private moment to express her gratitude to the universe.

“Okay, but just watch out for rattlers, they can get active this time of the evening after a hot day,” Haymitch cautioned.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a good eye, remember?” she laughed and walked away from the camp, her head in the clouds.

Everything had turned out so well, it was as if it all was meant to be. Delly had never felt so empowered or invincible. She was brave, because she was loved. I have been blessed, she acknowledged.

“I _am_ blessed,” she said aloud and reached down for the buffalo chip.

 

**A/N: Coming up next - Like the wildflowers, love blooms for Peeta and Katniss.**


	5. The Wildflowers in the Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for some Everlark love? 
> 
> Fans of ‘Centennial’ know what’s coming up in this chapter. While Michener was not detailed in his description of the romance that emerged between his two characters, with a few words he was quite poetic about the passionate and, I believe, symbolic nature of their physical union. "It was love in its perpetual significance," he tells readers, adding their love-making to the list of other meaningful events that had taken place in that spot throughout the eons. 
> 
> I hope that my expanded account both respects the source material and conveys the tender passion that is so quintessentially Everlark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you otrascosasseries, finduilasnumenesse, titania522, and papofglencoe (all on tumblr) for your contributions to this story!
> 
> And Hugs to everyone who has left comments and kudos - You give me so much motivation!

**Chapter 5 - The Wildflowers in the Spring (Spring, 1845)**

Katniss proposed that they walk a little further each day, and Peeta agreed, so the next few days they explored the area. Even in that short time, Peeta could feel his strength returning. He was beginning to regain some of the weight that he had lost, thanks to Katniss’s hunting prowess.

One day, Katniss suggested they climb the ridge behind the cabin. It was a steep hike, but Peeta agreed that he was up for the challenge.

Days of warm spring sunshine had spurred on new growth. But the most incredible sight was revealed when they reached the clearing at the top. Stretching out before them was a meadow overflowing with a profusion of wildflowers in bloom. Yellow, red, blue, lavender, white… a plethora of varieties. It was like nothing Peeta had ever seen before.

They both stood in awe at the beauty of it.

“It’s rare to see this,” Katniss whispered.

“If I had the materials, I’d paint this scene,” he answered.

The corner of Katniss’s mouth quirked up. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”

He shrugged, “I’m not. I’m just a baker. But it was my job to decorate the cakes and pastries, so I guess you could say I enjoy the idea.”

He crouched down and gathered a mixed bouquet. “For you,” he said and handed them to Katniss.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and buried her face in them for a moment. Peeta wondered why she removed a blue and white columbine and tucked it into her braid behind one ear.

“My mother says the spring I was born, it was a year of wildflowers.”

He glanced down at the bow case hanging over her shoulder. “Everything you have, your clothes, this case, the quiver, they all have flowers. I wondered why, but I think I understand now.” Katniss nodded. “You said spring. When is your birthday?” Peeta asked.

“In a couple of weeks. May eighth,” she answered.

Peeta made a note to remember that fact.

“It won’t last long,” Katniss said. “Soon the sun will burn off the moisture in the ground from the snow melt and all of this will wither away. It’ll likely be years before it returns.”

The sadness of her words must have reflected on his face, because Katniss reached for his hand and said, “It means we should enjoy it while it lasts,” and she pulled him after her into the midst of the flowers, her bouquet clutched in the other hand. He answered her with a smile and a nod, but it left him with small ache he didn’t want to understand.

On their way back to the cabin, Katniss grabbed Peeta’s arm and pointed to the edge of the woods, where an elk was grazing. She indicated for them to stay low, and then leaving him behind, she crept up on the animal, bow in hand. She aimed an arrow and the animal dropped to the ground.

Katniss squealed, her face flushed with excitement, and threw her arms around Peeta’s neck. He relished the sensation.

“I’ve never shot an elk before! This is the biggest game I’ve ever gotten!” she exclaimed, breathless.

Peeta was just about to congratulate her when she startled him with a kiss. He barely had time to register the feel of her lips when she pulled away, flustered, and murmured an apology.

Peeta knew he must have a foolish grin plastered over his face. “Hey, you’re putting food in our bellies, so feel free to kiss me anytime you want. I promise I won’t complain.” He hated the idea of her being embarrassed, especially by something so wonderful and welcome as that kiss.

The way she laughed and rolled her eyes at his joke made his heart skip a beat.

They both turned to look at the elk, the task of dealing with its large carcass before them.

“That’s a big animal to carry back to the cabin,” Peeta said.

Katniss bit her lip, let out a deep breath and replied, “We’ll cut away all the meat we can carry and use the hide like a sack to get it to the cabin. We can leave the bones behind to reduce the weight. There’s a lot of predators and scavengers here. They’ll appreciate us sharing whatever we're forced to leave behind.”

They set to work and when they were done, Katniss gathered up the edges of the hide into a large bundle. Peeta grabbed the top and hefted it over his shoulder, and they started down the hill.

“You’re getting stronger,” Katniss observed. Peeta knew what she was implying and remained silent. Their days at the cabin were coming to an end.

“We’ll set aside what we can eat, and I’ll make a hanging rack for the rest,” she continued. “Once I’ve scraped the hide clean and staked it out on the ground, it’ll take a few days for it all to dry. Then we can pack the dried meat in the rawhide for the ride back to the trading post. My mother will want to tan the hide.”

They exchanged a glance. “You’ll be strong enough for the trip home by then,” Katniss said.

I’m probably strong enough now, Peeta thought. Surely Katniss knew that, too. Maybe she didn’t want to admit it, either, and taking a few more days to preserve the elk meat was a way to delay the inevitable. Peeta nodded in reply, determined to make the most of this time together, no matter how limited it might be.

That evening, after Peeta helped build the drying rack and Katniss took care of the hide, they enjoyed a stew made from elk meat, and the wild onions and mushrooms they gathered. Peeta’s heart was bursting with gratitude for the day, and for the first time in many months, he was compelled to close his eyes and say a private prayer. When he looked up, Katniss was staring at him.

“I was just saying a ‘thank you’ for the day. For the sunshine, the walk, the wildflowers. I’m grateful for you, too. Not just for the food,” he gave her a smile, “but for saying what you did about Delly the other day.” He ate a mouthful of the stew before continuing. “I wish there was a way for me to return the favor.”

“Haymitch will be pleased to put you back to work when we go home,” Katniss joked, scooping up a spoonful of stew.

Peeta chuckled, “I’m sure of that.” He set his plate aside and said, “But I wish I could think of a way to do something just for you. For coming and finding me.”

“You already did,” she replied. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here in the first place, wouldn’t have gotten to see the wildflowers. It’s been a very good day. I got my first elk,” she paused, “and my first kiss.” She gave him a playful smirk.

Peeta was rendered speechless for a moment. Katniss had chosen him to be her first kiss. How could that even be possible? It must have been the excitement over the elk. His expression of disbelief triggered something in Katniss because he saw her smile disappear and her face flush just a bit. She turned away and ate another mouthful of stew.

He relived the impulsive kiss they had shared. Neither of them were prepared, so it wasn’t his best. He took a deep breath, reached a hand to her chin and turning her face towards him, he said softly, “In that case, I think I can do better. If you’ll allow it.”

Her eyes grew wide, then contemplative. Just when he thought he should change the subject, she put her plate down and whispered, “I’ll allow it.”

When she leaned in towards him, he took her face in his hands and kissed her again. Except this time the kiss he gave was slow and soft, the warm caress of curious discovery. He wanted so much to please her. Despite his racing heart, he kept it almost chaste, hoping to respect whatever boundaries existed between them.

When he leaned back, Katniss said nothing, but her eyes were closed and he thought he heard her sigh. He dropped his hands, but she lunged forward, reached out to grab his neck and kissed him back. This time it was insistent and hungry, and the fervor of it took him by surprise. He dared to sweep his tongue across her lips, and when she did the same, all he knew was her fingers tangled in his hair and the taste of her mouth. Breathless, they moved apart just enough to search each other’s eyes.

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a half-smile, and she answered him with one of her own, and he understood one thing. Whatever it was for her, he would never forget it.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. Peeta offered to go collect water for cleaning up and Katniss nodded. He needed the excuse to get some fresh air. When he returned, she was standing outside the cabin looking up at the night sky. He came to stand beside her but instead of gazing at the stars, he kept his eyes on her, wishing he knew what she was thinking.

“Should I heat the water to wash the dishes?” he said to break the silence. She just gave a small nod, so he grabbed a towel from the line and left her outside.

The water was warm so he went ahead and cleaned up, but when Katniss still hadn’t returned, he grew concerned. Perhaps it was rash what he had done. But she had kissed him back. Maybe she regretted it. She was a passionate girl, but it didn’t mean there was more to it.

 _She doesn’t love you_ , said the voice inside his head. Katniss was his rescuer, and now his friend. To expect anything more was unfair. He rose to go to the door, determined to make things okay between them again. Before he made it to his feet, Katniss returned. She sat at the foot of their bed, slipped off her moccasins and began to unlace her leggings, readying herself for bed.

Relieved, but determined to reassure her that the kiss didn’t have to change anything between them, he turned his back and began to undress as usual. Trousers and shirt folded to the side, he slipped under the buffalo robes and averted his eyes as he had on previous nights. He lay staring at the ceiling trying to forget the memory of Katniss’s lips.

But he could feel the weight of her gaze, and succumbed to his irresistible need to look at her. She was kneeling beside him, and instead of turning her back, she faced him. With deliberation, she reached down and drew the deerskin dress up and over her head. Next, she began to unbraid her hair so that it fell over her shoulders, loose and heavy, and he wanted so much to reach out and run his fingers through it. To let his hand follow it down over her shoulders, smooth it away from her breasts.

But he remained still, permitting only his eyes to travel over the image before him, so fearless and pure. However, when Katniss crawled forward and leaned over to kiss him again, she was tentative. He reached out to steady her trembling arm.

He understood then, the full depth of his desire. It wasn’t like what he had known with Delly. The sight of Katniss’s exquisite body cut him deep to his marrow, so that he believed he could die for want of it.

He lifted the side of the robe and she slipped under. Katniss laid her head in the crook of his neck, her warm breath against his skin. She had drawn so close to his side that there was no hiding the effect she had on him, but she didn’t shy away. And Peeta knew without a doubt that he would answer whatever request she made. Even if it was that he curl up at her side in sleep.

But she had other intentions, because instead of placing her hand on his chest, as she was in the habit of doing, she raised up on one elbow and reached across his body. Her fingers circled his wrist and guided his hand to her breast. She sucked in a breath and it made his heart skip a beat.

Peeta reached for her shoulders and gently moved her over to lie on her back, and she frowned in confusion. He moved to her side and gave her a reassuring smile. Sweeping the glossy black hair to the side, he ran his fingers lightly over the curve of her breast. He cupped the swell of it, and when she arched her back into his hand, he ghosted his fingers over her nipple. His breath caught in his chest as it stiffened under his touch. She released a sigh, and thus encouraged, he continued with more ardor, teasing and caressing.

Katniss tilted her head back, and her soft moans brought his lips to her neck. He worked his way down its column until he reached the small indentation at the base of her throat. A quick glance at her face revealed her eyes were closed and her mouth was shaped from pleasure. Peeta was so moved that he had elicited this reaction that he closed his own eyes and brought his lips to her other breast. He relished the taste of her skin and the way this peak hardened at the flick of his tongue.

The response was immediate. She gave a small gasp, digging her fingers into his hair to hold him in place. Her breathing grew heavier, her heartbeat quickening. Despite his own arousal, Katniss became his only purpose. This was all new for her, and he was determined to make it the best that he could offer. A brief memory flashed through his mind, of his wedding night to Delly, the first and only girl he had been with in this way. He recalled how awkward he had been, and was filled with gratitude for everything that she had taught him in their brief time together.

He was trying to gauge how far he should go when she reached for his wrist and led his hand lower, to the juncture of her thighs. Her knees fell open welcoming his touch. Like a blossoming flower, he thought wistfully, and with a light hand he ran his fingers down through her folds, and back up to the spot that caused her to undulate under his hand. Watching her, he learned what she wanted from him.

Her breath grew more ragged, her movements less restrained. He dared to move his hand lower still and, watching her reaction, he dipped a finger inside her. She gasped in surprise and he moved his hand way, but she caught him by the wrist again. Opening her eyes just enough to meet his, she gave a small nod. Emboldened, he continued to stroke her until her movements became erratic, her voice a quiet groaning until she let out a cry and he knew she had found her release. Her thighs clamped over his hand, trapping it there as she gasped for breath.

When it passed, and her breathing became languid, Peeta kissed her gently on her cheek. He lifted his head to look at her, and when she brushed the hair back from his forehead and smiled at him, his heart melted.

She pulled him down for another kiss, but instead of the tenderness he was expecting, this one was passionate, demanding more. Her tongue brushed against his lips, and he parted them for her, his heart pounding, his own arousal impossible to ignore anymore.

As Peeta wrestled with what he should do, he felt her hand reach down between them, her fingers circling his erection, exquisite and excruciating all at once. Just as he felt he could stand it no more, she released him. But instead of pulling away, her hands gripped his hips, drawing him closer, pulling him to lie nestled between her strong thighs. With her hand, Katniss made her intention clear. She placed the head of his aroused flesh at her entrance and kissed him again. The feel of her made his breath catch in his chest. And all Peeta knew was his need to give her whatever she desired.

She was so warm and smooth and slick, and it took everything in him to not plunge into her, but he restrained himself, afraid to hurt her. He moved slowly, only entering her a small way, his eyes fixated on her every expression. He pulled back and pushed in a little further this time, and  
her brows furrowed in discomfort, but when he tried to stop, he felt her fingers digging into his hips, forbidding it.

“Don’t,” Katniss gasped, “I want you to…”

And he was lost. Overcome with his own need, he whispered an apology and gave in to the passion that her body evoked in him. He could feel her tense beneath him and it brought tears to his eyes, of gratitude, and of sadness that he would cause her pain. He reached down between them, his fingers searching out the spot that had brought her pleasure and stroked her until she began to move with him. Soon her groans joined his own desperate grunts, and when she cried out again, he gasped, let go and joined her. Spent, he collapsed onto her body, heart pounding, reveling in the exquisite pulsating of her body around him.

Peeta worried that he was crushing her, but Katniss wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him, forbidding him from moving away. He brushed his hand over her face and she opened her eyes. He had wanted so badly for it to be good for her, and he was about to say he was sorry, when she hushed his words with another kiss.

When their hearts and breath slowed, Peeta rolled them both onto their sides, facing each other. He ran a hand down her breast, over the curve of her waist to her hip. He grazed his fingers across her inner thigh, feeling the slickness there. He remembered the tenderness that she had shown him when she had first arrived, and got up and crawled over to the fire where the pot of warm water sat. He reached over for the towel, dipped it in and wrung it out. He wiped it across her sweaty brow, smoothing back the damp hair. He kissed her forehead and ran the cloth down her neck and placed another soft kiss on the delicate skin behind her ear. He continued down, laying soft kisses as he went, between her breasts, along the side of her ribcage from under her arms to the swell of her hips. When he reached the juncture of her legs, he carefully took hold of her leg and moved it aside, exposing her, and kissed the inside of her thigh.

When Peeta was finished, he looked up, and Katniss’s eyes were glassy with emotion, but she smiled again and reached up to embrace him.

This time, when they fell asleep, she draped her body over his, and instead of her hand, it was her head that rested over his heart. Her loose hair sprayed over his body, one of her legs lay across his hips, her arms holding him close. Wrapping her tightly in his arms, he thought that he would never want anything as much as he wanted her, for as long as he breathed.

Perhaps he should feel guilt. His pious upbringing would have him ashamed for what he had done. And yet here with Katniss, he had never felt so close or connected to creation. There was such undeniable power and majesty in this place, and he sensed that he was a part of it in some inextricable way. And so was Katniss. It was as if they were the only people on the earth, in a personal Eden created just for them.

He’d been running for so long. But it was as if God himself was trying to teach him something important. Here alone, stripped of everything, and left completely bereft, he’d been forced to stop fighting and running. And in return, he’d been given something immeasurably better than what he had sought when he left Pennsylvania. Even greater than all he had lost. A reminder that he wasn’t forsaken.

It was more than just the kindness of strangers. He’d found a reason to want to live. Not just because he owed the Abernathys for giving him a second chance. Not even out of gratitude for Katniss saving his life. But because he knew what it was to feel pure joy. If God chose to provide that mercy in the form of an Indian girl who didn’t even share his faith, who was he to question it? Here was a gift of infinite beauty, and because it was so undeserved, it was beyond precious.

Peeta could no longer deny that he was in love with the girl wrapped in his arms. He dared to wonder if it might be the same for her. What had happened between them was too significant to not be real. He hoped it was real.


	6. Real or Not Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As their time in the mountains draws to a close, Peeta wonders about the true nature of Katniss's feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I must thank finduilasnumenesse, titania522 and papofglencoe (on tumblr) for all the amazing feedback they provide. This story would not be the same without them!
> 
> The beautiful banner is by the talented otrascosasseries (also on tumblr).
> 
> Thank you! <3!

**Chapter 6 - Real or Not Real**

Generosity, loyalty, sacrifice, mercy. Love?

Peeta had experienced all of these things since the Abernathys had made him a part of their lives. But love remained a mystery. He knew what it was for him, but did it mean the same thing for Katniss? Maybe it was simply this place, and just like the wildflowers, when they left this mountain haven, it would all shrivel up and disappear.

He bucked up and split some firewood and when it was stacked, he stopped to lean on the ax handle. He turned his attention to Katniss as she tended to the strips of drying elk meat and the hide stretched across a frame on the ground. Watching her, he pondered all that he had learned in the past few months, and his thoughts turned to the beliefs that had shaped his early life. He considered the contradictions between what he had been taught versus what he had seen.

Delly had been right. On their way south, just days before she died, she had declared that they were witness to more acts of Christian charity from the Abernathys, than what they knew from many of the professing believers they grew up with in Pennsylvania. More than what they had seen in their unpleasant wagon train companions. Their new trading post partners better shared their values despite the fact that they didn’t espouse any particular faith.

Peeta considered that embedded in this experience was a spiritual message. That the strict legalism and adherence to rules, without the conviction of one’s heart, was meaningless. If this was a new land and a new life for him, then perhaps it required a new kind of faith, too.

Katniss came over to join him as he gathered some of the firewood to take inside. “Are you ready for something to eat?” she asked.

“You know I am,” he said grinning. He still had a ways to go to get back to his previous weight, but with the return of his appetite, he now inhaled everything put before him. He watched Katniss as she dished out leftover stew from the night before, attempting to repress his smile.

“What?” she smirked.

He liked the way her eyes flashed with a flirtatious glint. He reached out and pulled her to his chest and kissed her as if he was a starving man, which in a way he knew was true.

She laughed and playfully pushed him away. “Eat now, play later!”

It made his heart leap that she felt it, too. Nothing would convince him that it was anything less than divine providence that had brought them together. Inspired, he bowed his head, and said a quick grace. This time Katniss chose to question him about it.

When he explained it was the way he had been raised, she replied, “I’d think given how you were treated, you wouldn’t hold on to all that. How you said they were hypocrites.”

“That’s just it. Not everyone was like that, but the ones who were, they forgot what it was they claimed to believe. My brother Eli accused me of being rebellious, and he meant it to condemn me, but now I think it’s part of what helped me to understand things. Some of those people back home would recite the words from the Bible, but they chose to not understand the message.”

“If I could read, then I could be smart enough to know about the world and make up my mind about things,” Katniss said.

“You are smart. And you understand more about my faith than some of the people back home who can read and who have no excuse.”

She gave him a grin at his praise and returned to eating the food on her plate.

“If I have children someday,” Peeta mused, “I want them to read the Bible without being told what to think, for them to grow up understanding it because the words spoke to them.”

He glanced up at Katniss and saw worry lines cross her brow. He wondered if he had sounded presumptuous, because secretly he couldn’t imagine the idea of his children not also being hers. Did she think the same? Perhaps he had offended her in some way.

“Katniss, I’m curious about what you believe. I know Haymitch doesn’t subscribe to any particular beliefs, but were you raised with the beliefs of your mother?”

Katniss shrugged. “Not especially. I think when she left her tribe to live with my father and Haymitch, she left much of it behind. It wasn’t a part of their world, so she kept it mostly to herself.”

“They’re good people, your parents. Even if they don’t preach it, it shows in how they act, which is more important.”

“One thing my mother used to tell me, especially when I was little, were some of Our People’s stories. I loved them growing up. I guess it was closest to what formed her beliefs. The lessons they taught.”

“Our People?” Peeta asked.

“It’s the name the Arapaho use to refer to themselves.”

Peeta set his empty plate aside and reclined back on the buffalo robe with his head cradled in his hands. “Tell me your favorite story. I want to know.”

Katniss lay down beside him and pulled one of his arms down to act as a pillow. She took a moment to consider. “I always enjoyed the story of the girl and the porcupine.”

She proceeded to tell the tale of a girl, who, while out foraging with her friends, happened to spot a porcupine in a tall tree.

“Now porcupine quills are very valuable,” she explained, “so when the girl saw him, she knew she had to get him! She grabbed her knife and began to climb, but the closer she got, the higher he retreated, on and on until she got so high, her friends grew frightened for her and pleaded with her to come down. But she was so consumed with possessing those quills, she ignored them.”

“What happened? Did she fall?” Katniss wasn't the most talkative girl and Peeta loved listening to her voice. There was an almost musical lilt to it.

“She kept climbing, the porcupine luring her further up. But no matter how high she went, the tree just grew taller, until the two of them were way up into the clouds. When they broke through the top of the clouds, the tree vanished and she was standing on solid ground. The porcupine turned to her and said, ‘This is my home, and now you will have to stay here, too. You wanted my quills so badly, so now you will be my wife.’ Faced with the reality of a new home and a new husband, she forgot all about those quills.”

Peeta couldn’t repress a chuckle. He quirked his eyebrow at her and smirked, “Are you sure about that? Married to a porcupine must have been rather… prickly.”

She gave him a swat, but continued. “Anyway, there was no way back down, so she had no choice. She worked hard, tanning the hides her porcupine husband brought her and gathering wild turnips, chokecherries and berries for their meals.”

“Did he treat her well?”

“Yes, he built her a fine lodge and she was content for a time, but she wasn’t free. Even a nice trap is still a trap. She suspected her husband kept her so busy to distract her from thinking about all that she had left behind.”

Her face grew serious, and Peeta urged her to continue.

“One day she was digging for turnips and she dug so deep, she saw through the clouds all the way back to the earth. She looked with longing at her village down below, and grew very homesick.”

Peeta listened, captivated.

“She began to set aside sinew from the animals she tanned, and hide it away. In time she made a long rope, and one day when she thought she had enough, she returned to the turnip patch. She secured one end of the sinew rope to her digging stick, which she laid across the opening. And then she dropped the rest in the hole and began to climb down.

“She reached the bottom of her rope, but sadly it was still too short, and she was a long ways from the ground. But just as she was about to climb back up, she saw her porcupine husband staring down at her from the top.”

“What did he do?” Peeta asked.

“He was sad, but also a bit angry. He said, ‘If you are determined to leave, then leave.’ And he dropped a stone down the hole that hit her on the head so that she let go of the rope.”

“Was she okay?” Peeta asked.

“Yes, she found out she was stronger than she thought when she landed safely on the ground, though she did have a bruise on her head for her troubles. But she didn’t care. She was so happy that she ran back to her village and fell into the welcoming arms of her tribe.”

Katniss rose up on her elbow and looked at him, waiting for his response. He frowned. “This is one of your favorite stories?”

She nodded, then pouted. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a happy ending. I kind of feel bad for the porcupine. I mean, maybe he was just really lonely.” He made a forlorn face.

“But don’t you see? The porcupine learned that you can’t trick someone into loving you. And the girl thought she wanted those quills, and let the desire for them lead her astray. But it took her being separated from what was most important to understand how much she loved what she almost lost.”

“It’s still kind of a sad story,” Peeta said.

“I guess that’s the point,” Katniss replied. “Some lessons are more difficult than others.”

Peeta nodded and thought about all that he had experienced to get to this point. But he was distracted from his sober thoughts when Katniss rolled over, her chin resting on his chest.

“Lucky for you I don’t have any quills,” Peeta teased and tickled her. Katniss squirmed in his arms and giggled. It was music to his ears.

She gave him a mischievous half-smile. “Maybe not, but I am thinking you might have something else I want.”

Peeta didn’t need to be told twice.

With each passing day, Peeta could feel time ticking away. Though their days were filled with playful flirtations and nights with a more heated passion, Peeta tried to not read too much into it. He longed to tell her that he loved her, yet a niggling voice in the back of his head warned that if he did, he might not like her response. So he chose to preserve the protective bubble in which they lived, and he kept silent.

On the third day after she had shot the elk, Katniss woke him up with a kiss and said she wanted to climb back up the ridge and see the wildflowers one more time before they left for home. It created a knot of conflicting emotions in his chest, but he agreed, determined to make the very most of everything given to them for as long as it was offered.

They packed a picnic, made up of some dried elk meat and berries, and they filled the canteens with water. Peeta even made the same biscuity bread that Katniss said she enjoyed. On their way past the clothes line, Katniss grabbed and folded up one of the blankets for them to sit upon, and they set on their way.

The day was sunny and the air was warmer than the last time. Katniss didn’t need to say it for Peeta to know that soon the unrelenting heat would take its toll on the fragile blooms and they would vanish.

When they reached the top, she spread out the blanket. But since it was too early to eat, they left their meal and decided to take a walk through the wildflowers. Katniss provided the names for the flowers that she knew. When Peeta’s stomach began to grumble, she chuckled and they returned to the blanket and ate their lunch. Satisfied and full, Peeta lay down, closed his eyes and soaked up the sun’s rays. Though he was reluctant to miss even a moment of what was left of his time here with Katniss, he soon fell asleep.

A ticklish sensation on his cheek brought him back to consciousness and caused the muscles in his face to twitch. When it didn’t go away he opened one eye and found that Katniss was hovering over him. Silhouetted against the sunlight, it took him a moment to focus on her face, but he saw the dreamy expression in her eyes, and it stirred desire in his belly. Her two braids hung down on either side of his face, though it wasn’t her hair that had tickled him.

He reached up a hand to discover the cause, and came away with the top of a blue columbine tangled in his beard. He scrunched up his face in confusion, and running his hand over the rest of his face and through his hair, he realized there were additional blooms. Glancing down, he noted the top buttons of his shirt were open and there were even more wildflowers tangled in the pale hairs that grew on his chest.

He shook his head and made a face at Katniss for adorning him in such a decidedly un-masculine way. He went to brush them away when she stopped his hand.

“No. Leave them,” she commanded, her eyes aflame with intensity.

When he raised his eyebrow in question, what she said next took his breath away.

“Everything I have is covered in flowers. Now so are you. I’m making you mine.”

He could barely speak, he was so overcome by the revelation of her words. Could it be true? Maybe this was real after all.

“Well then,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion, “Now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

She answered by running her finger tips across his lips, her tongue darting out to wet her own and then she descended on him with kisses, over his face and neck, following the path of the flowers to his chest. Her lips were greedy and fervent, marking him with their heat as if staking her claim with a brand of her own fiery creation. He welcomed all of it, still reeling from what it meant.

Peeta felt her hands on his shoulders pushing back his suspenders. He twisted to free them from his arms and when he felt the tug of his shirt being pulled up, he sat up and helped her to pull it up over his head, a shower of wildflowers falling over the blanket beneath him. He pulled her onto his lap, so that her legs straddled his body. The way she rolled her hips over him made him groan and fall back onto the blanket. His hands traveled downward, following the curve of her narrow waist and rounded hips, and over the bunched up material of her dress.

Her fingers worked on the buttons of his pants as he slid his hands up her toned thighs lifting the soft deerskin up her body. She sat back, panting, her eyes glassy and dark with want, and lifted her arms so that he could remove the dress. Once free of her leggings and moccasins, Katniss scooted down to untie his boots and pulled them off. Then, with a determined tug, she stripped him of his trousers.

They took a moment to regard each other, under the bright exposure of the sunshine. No longer fettered by doubts, Peeta reached up and took her face in his hands and pulled her down for a hot, openmouthed kiss.

Katniss replied by grasping his erection in her hand and without warning sank onto him with a gasp. With abandon she drove him to the brink of ecstasy. His jaw dropped open in awe as he watched her. When he thought he couldn’t last much longer, he reached up for her, and hugged her to his body. He flipped her over, and sliding down her body, he returned her passion with suckling kisses to her breasts as she writhed beneath his touch.

He reached down between her thighs, but she grabbed him and pulled his body on top of her. She rolled her hips until he was positioned at her entrance and arched up to envelope him once again. He gave up all restraint, her moans urging him on. It wasn’t like before, tender and gentle. It was without inhibition, as wild as the place itself. Demanding as the sun that shone down on them. She gripped his buttocks, her fingernails biting into his flesh, and he answered her encouraging cries with lustful purpose.

“You’re mine,” she cried out breathlessly.

Soon his own voice joined hers as they took and gave, answering an insatiable hunger that made his past starvation pale in comparison.

Naked and unashamed, he understood that they were a part of everything around them, the unrelenting rocky cliffs looming over them, the gushing streams, the trembling aspens and towering spruce. That they were as connected to this place as they were to each other.

It was love unlike any Peeta had ever known. It was elemental, as profound as the mystery that brought the rare wildflowers to life. He loved Katniss with every ounce of his body and the full measure of his heart. His heart felt like it would burst with the magnitude of it.

“I love you,” he whispered after, as they lay wrapped around each other. He felt her warm breath against his skin where she nuzzled his neck. The steady rhythm told him that she had fallen asleep, but he was secure in the bond between them and smiled.

The sun was setting when they awoke. They sat wrapped in the blanket and quietly watched the sky as it put on its brilliant display. As twilight set in, hand-in-hand they made their way back to the cabin.

The next day, Katniss declared that the elk meat and hide were ready, and that they could start for home the next day. She soaked the hide once she released it from the frame, trimmed it, and set it aside to dry into a secure envelope, which she called a ‘parfleche.’ When it was ready, she placed the meat in the center of the rawhide for the journey home.

It had taken Peeta over two days to hike up to the cabin burdened by his supplies, but with the ponies and traveling downhill, the trip would be easier. Katniss said that if they left early the next morning, they would make it back to the trading post by evening, in time for supper.

They packed everything they planned to take with them, and as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, Peeta noticed that Katniss was over by the creek. She was sitting on top of a large rock, her knees drawn up staring down at the rushing water.

She didn’t notice his approach, which was odd given how alert she was most of the time.

“Either I’m getting much better at sneaking around, or something is really interesting in that water,” he joked. He sat down on the edge of the rock beside her.

“I was just wishing we could stay here forever,” she said wistfully. He knew what she meant, but he couldn’t deny he was growing excited about the future that lay ahead of them. He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

Later that night they crawled into their bed in the cabin for the last time. They held each other tightly, both of them finding it difficult to sleep. Katniss eventually drifted off, but was restless in Peeta’s arms. He had to admit he was a little anxious about his reception back at the post. He tried to plan out what he would say to Haymitch and Laughing Bird. Of course, he would ask for Katniss’s hand in marriage. But there was a more pressing matter on his mind. He needed to find the right time and words to propose to Katniss. He yawned, drowsiness and the warmth of Katniss’s clinging body making his mind foggy. Unable to focus any longer, he soon fell asleep.

In the morning, there were dark circles under Katniss’s eyes. She couldn’t be worried about what her parents would think, Peeta told himself. They had, after all, agreed on Katniss’s venture to come get him. They must have known what might happen here. Perhaps she’s wondering about my intentions, he thought, and he returned to the matter of his proposal. But to alleviate her mind for now, he joked about having to answer to Haymitch when they got home.

“He’ll be relieved to have you back to help with building the rest of the trading post,” she said. “And he’ll be itching to head east to purchase supplies for us to sell.”

Peeta was sure she meant it to put his mind at rest, but he couldn’t ignore a worrisome feeling creeping along the back of his neck. It was as if an icy drip of water ran down his spine. He told himself he was imagining it, that they were both saddened at leaving this special place. So he decided that when they stopped to eat along the way, he would tell her how the life that lay ahead of them would be just as promising.

After the ponies were saddled and their gear loaded, he saw her close the door to the cabin and take a moment to place her hand on the log wall and give a little smile. It made him feel somewhat better.

They rode in silence, which gave Peeta time to rehearse what he wanted to say, so that when midday arrived, he was eager to ask her to marry him. He imagined her response, and how he would take her in his arms and all the anxiety of the past day would vanish.

They stopped beside a river and Katniss unpacked some food from her saddlebag for them to share. Peeta took a drink from one of the canteens and composed himself, once they had sat down. When she handed him some of the dried elk meat, he set it down and took her hand.

“Katniss, there’s something I’d like to say before we get home.”

He wasn’t exactly certain what he expected, but seeing the color drain from her face stopped him in his tracks. “Katniss?” he said, all of his rehearsed words forgotten. “What’s wrong?”

She took her hand back and it joined the other in her lap, folded together so tightly that the knuckles were white.

Her voice was small when she spoke. “Everything was so simple at the cabin. But the closer we get to home, the more I remember…”

“Remember what?” The rising panic tightened its icy grip on Peeta’s throat, but he managed to keep his voice calm.

“I don’t…” she started, clearly struggling. “I don’t want my mother’s life.”

It was as if he was tumbling back into that frigid creek again, the air sucked out of his lungs. She didn’t want to be the wife of a trading post manager. She didn’t want him. He forced himself to breathe.

“I don’t understand, Katniss. These last couple of weeks. I thought…” The words stopped in his throat, _I thought you loved me_.

She turned to him, furrowed brow and pain etched across her face. “It was the same for me, Peeta,” she said, distraught. “You’re the first man I’ve ever cared about, that I knew I could trust. The only one that I have wanted that way. You know that.”

Shattered, he mumbled, “It’s not like I have much competition around here.”

“You can’t understand what it’s like for people like me,” Katniss continued. “It isn’t the same world that it was for my mother when she married my father. Or my stepfather. It isn’t as simple as it used to be.”

“It isn’t complicated either,” Peeta replied. “I’ve seen Haymitch and your mother. How much they love each other.”

Katniss nodded. “But it’s the rest of the world, Peeta. It used to be that Indians and whites were more equal. There was still conflict, even between tribes, but there was also respect. My life, my brothers’ lives, are much harder than our mother’s, and I know my children’s lives will be even worse. You haven’t seen the way the people coming into our store at Fort John looked at my mother. Or at me. It’s like what I told you about my brothers, how angry they are. The settlers who are coming here don’t respect Indians the way my father and stepfather did. Gale was right. What’s coming is inevitable. My mother’s people, my people, are doomed.”

Her eyes were pleading when she said, “How can I marry or bring children into this world? How can I subject them to that kind of hate? You know a little of what it’s like to be judged unfairly. And you were able to leave it all behind. Where can I go? There is nowhere that I could protect my children.”

“So what happens when we get back?” Peeta asked. “What do you want?”

She dropped her gaze back to her hands. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I want the wildflowers.”

Peeta couldn’t speak, his thoughts churning, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Peeta, the day I met you, just before you and Delly arrived at the fort, I swore I’d never let that happen to me, be seen as an uncivilized squaw to every white person who came through our door, being judged, found inferior. I vowed I’d never subject my children to that either. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Katniss, we can’t change what other people think, but that doesn’t mean we can’t change ourselves. You said it yourself, how learning about the world helps to make sense of things. Since I’ve been here, in the mountains, with you, I know I’m not the same person. Things are clearer for me than they ever were before. I’ve learned a new way of seeing things. Maybe…”

She shook her head. “It’s not the same for me, Peeta.”  
  
He could feel Katniss slipping away. “But you can do your best to prove to the world that they’re wrong. It’s important to not give up without a fight.”

“Fighting back won’t work. Gale said my brothers’ retaliation would kill them.”

“There are other ways to fight than with guns or fists or arrows. You fight with your mind and heart.”

“Maybe, if people like me and my brothers had the tools. We were never given the same opportunities as my sister back east, even though we share our father’s blood.”

“You have a sister?”

“Half-sister. Remember I told you about my father’s other family in St. Louis? His white wife came from a wealthy German family, so my sister has had access to everything she could want. The best schools, a fine home, acceptance.”

Peeta furrowed his brows, considering all that she had said. Katniss gave a huff. “My family must seem very strange to you.”

“Hmm? I’m sorry Katniss, I was just thinking. But yes, it isn’t exactly what I’m used to, but none of it is your fault.” He got to his feet. “I’ll go refill the canteens.” He needed to clear his head.

Peeta walked over to the river and crouching down, he dipped the canteen into the current. He stared at the water, muddy and turbulent, sorting out his thoughts.

It wasn’t just about his own pain anymore, it was Katniss’s, too. He tried to imagine what it was like for her, unlike him, never being able to escape the judgment, always living under the weight of bigotry. He wanted so much to shield her from it, to convince her that he could, but in his heart he knew that what she said was true.

When he had given up, she had found a way to restore his faith and had given him courage. What could he do for her? He wracked his brain, desperate for answers. He considered how she said she lacked the opportunities that were provided to her sister. He thought of Delly and how proud he was of the intelligent, worldly girl she had turned out to be. How amazing Katniss was. And an idea began to form in his mind.

Peeta got up and returned to where Katniss sat, the uneaten food at her side, her face in her hands. It broke his heart to see her like this. He knelt down, took her hands in his, and forced her to look at him.

“Katniss, if we could come up with a way to give you the same chances as your sister, would it be enough to make you reconsider? You said you wanted to learn to read.”

She nodded, but remained passive. “You said that you could try to teach me.”

Peeta shook his head. “No, that isn’t enough. I know that. Maybe Delly could have been a good enough teacher, but you need something more than what I can offer.”

She looked up at him, curious. “What do you mean?”

“I was told that I needed to exchange my team of horses for oxen, because the trip across the prairies would kill them. I gave Haymitch over two thousand dollars from the money I got from selling them. If it would help you, I could ask for some of it back. I can pay him back with my share of the profits when we open the post. We could use it to pay for you to go back east to where there are good schools, where you could learn to read. Then maybe you might feel like you had some choices.”

“You would do that for me?” she asked.

Peeta gasped and took her face in his hands. “Don’t you know by now? I’d do anything for you.” His face grew pensive. “Even if it means sending you away.”

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. When she pulled back she said, “I don’t know how to do this. Where would I go? Will schools even accept me, at my age, or with me being Indian?”

“We have the rest of the ride back to think about it. When we get home, we’ll talk to your mother and Haymitch. He’s spent a lot of time back east. I’m sure he might have some ideas.”

Peeta was rewarded with a smile, and it almost erased the ache in his heart. He knew his prospects. He was a simple man with a trading post in a remote part of the country. He could imagine this beautiful girl and the impression she would make wherever she went. The attention she would receive. How could she not? Once Katniss had a taste of life back east, and he knew she would do well there, would she see him differently? By sending her away, he risked losing her forever. But seeing her grasp on to this hope, he wasn’t certain he that he had a choice.

It was just after sunset when they rode up to the front of the Abernathys’ cabin. They were greeted warmly, though Peeta could feel Haymitch’s eyes boring into him. Maybe it was the low whispers between the women as Laughing Bird led her daughter inside. Peeta took a deep breath and faced his partner, standing in front of the door with crossed arms and scowling face.

“Haymitch,” Peeta began, “I want to marry your daughter.”

“I should think so,” he growled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone I chose as a partner.”

“But there’s something she needs to do first. And I need to ask a favor of you in order to make it happen.”

Haymitch quirked an eyebrow, regarded him for a moment. “Well, supper’s waiting. How about we go inside with the women and talk about what you have in mind.”

Over their meal, Peeta and Katniss explained their idea. Peeta made his request for money to pay for Katniss’s expenses and then they sat in expectation of Haymitch’s answer. The man sat back in his chair and pursed his lips in deep thought. He looked at Laughing Bird and then with a deep exhalation he sat forward, his hands clasped together on the table in front of him.

“I think Katniss should come to St. Louis with me. And I think I have an idea for how to save us all some of the cost. I have a room reserved for me at Portia’s house. She’s well connected and would have no trouble enrolling Katniss in a good school.” He looked at his wife and continued. “And I think you should go with her, too. For support.”

Katniss’s mouth opened in shock, and Laughing Bird looked doubtful.

“Who’s Portia?” Peeta had to ask.

“She was Everdeen’s wife in St. Louis. Portia and I were always close friends, and she’s perfectly aware of her dead husband’s other family,” Haymitch explained.

“I don’t know,” Laughing Bird said quietly. “Wouldn’t it be awkward for her? How could we be sure she would accept us, let alone help Katniss?”

Haymitch smiled. “Everdeen and I had our troubles, and Lord knows there were many things we didn’t agree on. But one thing I can say for him, he married extraordinary women. Trust me, Portia will not turn you away. Plus, it would make me sleep better knowing that you were both safe with someone I trust. I’m sure Peeta would agree.”

He looked over at his prospective son-in-law and Peeta turned to Katniss to gauge her reaction to the plan. When he saw her give a nod, he turned back to Haymitch and held out his hand to shake.

“Thank you, Haymitch. This means the world to me.” He gave another glance to Katniss. “To both of us.”

The following days were a flurry of activity. Peeta and Haymitch discussed what they needed from St. Louis to properly stock their trading post. Peeta wrote down an inventory for Haymitch to take with him. The two men walked the site and conferred on what work needed to be done to complete the construction.

Meanwhile, Laughing Bird took the elk skin Katniss and Peeta had brought home with them, and prepared it for tanning. While she tanned the hide, Katniss selected and set aside the things they needed to take with them to St. Louis.

Even though it was not a secret what had transpired between them, out of respect for her parents, Katniss spent her nights in her family’s home, while Peeta slept in his smaller one-room cabin. He missed the warmth of her body, the silky feel of her skin against his, and as the day of her departure approached, he became acutely aware of how much he would miss her.

“I should be back by the end of the summer,” Haymitch said. “How are you with being on your own for a few months?”  
  
Peeta let out a deep breath. He was certainly in a better emotional place than he had been the previous winter, but it was still an intimidating reality. “I’ll be fine. At least I have a lot to keep me busy with finishing the stockade and building the corral. But I’ll be glad to have you back.”

“There’s a group of Pawnee in the area who dropped by while you were gone. They’re interested in what we’re doing, and I expect they’ll come by again. They speak some English. Just offer them some tobacco and pemmican and they will help you out. Try to learn their language. That’ll help you, too.”

“I thought this was Arapaho land?”

“It is, but borders can be fluid, so sometimes there’s conflict. Not much different than anywhere else in the world. But you’re good with people. You’ll do fine. I’m counting on you to keep the peace. My bank account back in St. Louis is depending on it!” He slapped him on the back.

Peeta hoped his faith in him was justified.

The last day before the Abernathys were to leave, the women appeared in eastern-style dresses. It was the first time Peeta had seen Katniss dressed in accordance to his culture. He couldn’t help admire how the corseted bodice and petticoats enhanced her figure in a way her deerskin dress had not. And yet it made something inside his chest ache to see her so transformed from the girl he knew in the mountains, the girl who belonged in the wildflowers.

She came over to him, adjusting her full skirt. “What do you think? Will I pass as suitable?”  
The corner of her mouth turned up just a bit, and he remembered their previous conversation.

Peeta placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You are suitable no matter what you wear,” he answered. He grinned and ran a hand down her sleeve. The russet-colored print fabric was dotted with tiny yellow, pale blue and cream blossoms. “And it still has flowers.”

She gave a soft laugh and ran her fingers through his hair.

The day before their departure happened to also be Katniss’s eighteenth birthday. After the four of them shared a meal, during which they celebrated the occasion, they discussed any last minute details for the Abernathys’ trip. As the evening wound down, Peeta took Katniss’s hand and they went for a walk outside.  
  
He reached down and picked several sprigs of silvery sagebrush and handed them to Katniss. “I’m sorry I don’t have a better gift, or prettier flowers for you. There aren’t many in bloom around here right now.”

She brought them to her nose. “No, this is perfect. They’ll dry nicely, so that I can keep them with me in St. Louis. I’ve always loved the scent. Sagebrush is a very special plant for the Arapaho, so it’ll remind me of home.”

She leaned her forehead against his chest, and when he ran his hand down her back, she was trembling.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’m not sure if I should go.”

“Everything is going to be just fine. I promise. Just remember, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still be here when you get back,” he said, trying to sound stronger than he felt.

She gave a nod and when he went to give her an encouraging hug, she held on much longer than he had expected. He tightened his embrace, knowing that she was leaving the next day and he may not have many chances left to feel her in his arms.  
  
That night he lay in his bed, the anxiety keeping him awake. He longed to get up and go beg Katniss to reconsider, to stay with him. She was afraid, which made her vulnerable to such an offer. But then, her story came to mind. He worried that if he persuaded her to stay, he would be no better than that porcupine, trapping her in a life that she didn’t want.

She had saved his life, this beautiful, generous girl, and he knew to desire more was selfish, when he had received so much. He loved her. And she made him hers, he reminded himself. She may have him body and heart, but she deserved more. She was as precious as the wildflowers with which she had claimed him. Peeta hoped that time would prove her love less ephemeral.

He heard the latch of his door slide open and he lifted his head to see a familiar silhouette standing in the doorway framed by moonlight. Without a word he lifted the side of his blanket and Katniss crawled in with him. He pulled her close, curling his body around her slender frame. He felt her release a shaky breath as her back melted into his chest. She reached down and grasping his hand, brought it up to rest at her breast.

Peeta buried his face in the luxuriant black hair at the base of her neck, breathing in her scent, trying to memorize it for the long year ahead. A full year. And after that, who knew for certain? Katniss soon relaxed and when the steady rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was asleep, he whispered, “Please come back to me. I need you.”

He couldn’t be certain, but somewhere in his dreams that night, she said she needed him, too.

 

**NOTE: My description of Peeta’s experience growing up in the Mennonite faith is rather harsh, and is not meant to be representative of everyone who lived in his community or all of the religion as a whole. The Mennonite community valued, among other things, hard work, respect for the land and the need to be faithful stewards of it, generosity in their service to others, commitment to social justice (including their written declaration against slavery from the late 1600s), and a dedication to non-violence.**

**Peeta condemned his family, his brother in particular, for stubbornly acting on the legalism of the faith while neglecting the true spirit in which it was intended.**

**NOTE: The story that Katniss tells Peeta is based on an actual Arapaho folk tale. There are different versions, but the one that most closely resembles Katniss’s story is called ‘The Porcupine Husband, a Native American Tale’ which I found on the Arapaho Legends website. I have adapted the story for thematic purposes.**

**NOTE: Sagebrush has an important place in Arapaho culture (and other Native American tribes). It’s burned in spiritual smudging ceremonies and used for its medicinal properties. But one thing that really made me excited to incorporate sagebrush into this story is the amazing parallel to THG and the ‘katniss’ or arrowhead plant.**

**1\. Sagebrush is part of the Artemisia family, which is named after the goddess Artemis, AKA Diana, the Huntress. Along with her bow and arrows, she is the defender of women, and she’s often seen as a ‘midwife’ protector for expectant mothers, all of which is relevant to this story.**

**Interestingly, I did find reference to Native American traditions of using the sagebrush smudging practice at childbirth, in parallel to the Greek/Roman mythology. But I’m getting ahead of myself. ;-)**

**2\. Sagebrush is also reminiscent of Mr. Everdeen telling young Katniss that if she could find herself she wouldn’t starve. WF-Katniss isn’t at risk of starving, but her greatest fears are centered around accepting who she is. Peeta’s sagebrush gift is a reminder to Katniss to ‘find herself’, bringing her comfort and courage by connecting her to her heritage.**

**I loved that I was able to find a native prairie plant to serve as another great symbol for Katniss, similar to the katniss plant of THG.**


	7. Presenting Miss Katniss Abernathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge Thank You to loving-mellark for creating the beautiful banner included with this chapter! 
> 
> I am so grateful to you and otrascosasseries for sharing their amazing talents. I’m deeply honoured to have your artwork attached to my story.
> 
> I would also like to express my thanks to bethylark for offering her help with aspects of Native American culture.
> 
> And I continue to be ever appreciative to finduilasnumenesse, titania522 and papofglencoe. You ladies offer the best advice and support!

**PART 3 - St. Louis (Summer, 1845)**

**Chapter 7 - Presenting Miss Katniss Abernathy**

It was late June when the Abernathys disembarked from the steamboat that had carried them down the Missouri River from St. Joseph to St. Louis. The dock was bustling with activity as Haymitch led his family ashore and hired a carriage to carry them up the hill to the grand home of the widow, Mrs. Portia Brinkerhoff-Everdeen, the daughter of a wealthy silversmith from Munich, Germany.

Katniss’s stomach was in knots as the carriage drove into the large circular drive in front of the stately structure. She reached over to clutch her mother’s hand and noticed Laughing Bird’s lips were drawn thin, small creases crossing her brow. Haymitch, however, had a big grin on his face as he helped them from the carriage and paid the driver.

Carrying their few bags, they walked up the steps to the front door, and Haymitch tapped the heavy brass knocker. The door was answered by a young maid in a simple uniform.  
“Can I help you?” she asked, looking with suspicion at the mother and daughter and their rough escort.

“Please tell your mistress that Haymitch Abernathy has come for his room,” he announced with authority.

From inside the home, came a voice, bearing the traces of a German accent. “Haymitch? Is that you after all these years?” There was delight in the woman’s tone as she entered the hall and came forward to greet her old friend. But she was stopped short when her eyes fell on his companions.

The woman ushered them inside and closed the door. She must suspect who we are, thought Katniss.

“Come in, come in. Some refreshments for our guests,” she said to the maid. Turning to Haymitch she asked, “Lapsang souchong tea for you?”

Haymitch’s tongue gave an involuntary lick to his lips. Other men might indulge in whiskey or other spirits, but the red, smokey tea was his weakness. It was difficult to come by back home, and he carefully stored the dry leaves in a tin where it would remain safe. He’d run out of it months ago.

“Yes, thank you, Portia. I’d like that very much,” he said.

Portia shook her head in disgust, “I can’t abide it myself. Tastes like tar. But I always keep some on hand for you in case you show up.”

“I agree,” Laughing Bird replied, wrinkling her nose. “It reminds me of a campfire.” The two women glanced at each other.

“It’s a man’s tea,” Haymitch insisted, with a scowl. The women smirked.

“If you say so, “ Portia answered with a laugh.

The maid was dismissed with instructions to prepare the tea, and lemonade for the ladies. They were escorted into a lavish parlor.

Once inside, Portia embraced Haymitch and whispered, “It’s been far too long.” She then turned her attention to the women in his company. Katniss readied herself for whatever was coming next.

To her surprise, Portia took her mother’s hands in her own, and with a smile said, “You must be Laughing Bird. I always wondered if we would ever meet.” Katniss saw her mother’s shoulders relax at the warmth in Portia’s voice.

“We have much to talk about,” their hostess added and then turned from the mother to the daughter, and took her hands next. “What’s your name, child?”

“I’m Katniss Abernathy,” Katniss replied evenly, though she was certain the woman could feel the trembling in her hands.

Portia glanced at Haymitch, “Is she yours?”

“No, she’s Everdeen’s, but I take care of her. Of both of them. When he died, I married Laughing Bird.”

“I see. Well, you have a lovely family, Haymitch, regardless.” She released Katniss’s hands and waved over to the sofas indicating for them to have a seat. Haymitch selected an ornate armchair, while Katniss and her mother sat close together on a plush loveseat. Katniss ran her hand over the velvet material. It helped to calm her nerves.

“We’ve come to enroll our daughter in school,” Haymitch explained. “She’s had no previous education, but I knew that you could help us to find a suitable place to teach her to read and write.”

“Splendid!” Portia answered. “The convent within our parish has a school. She can be tutored privately, and receive excellent instruction.” She looked at Katniss, scrutinizing her without speaking.

Haymitch spoke up next, his voice cautious. “Portia, I want to leave Laughing Bird here with our daughter, so that she won’t feel uncomfortable. Katniss has never been away from home before. I hope you’ll agree to that.”

Portia sat back and contemplated the situation. “Of course, you are both welcome here,” she said to the two women.

Haymitch paused, then continued, “How will they be received?”

Portia directed her gaze to the women on the loveseat. “We will make it as easy for you both as we can. You are a beautiful girl,” she said to Katniss. “Leave it in my hands, and you will find your place in no time.”

She turned to Laughing Bird. “We will need an official story for you both, though. There will be talk, and some will suspect the truth, since there have been rumors regarding my late husband. But everyone loves my parties, and if they wish to be included, they will keep it to themselves. So, we will introduce you as Mrs. Haymitch Abernathy, my husband’s partner’s wife, and her daughter, come to visit. Don’t worry,” she said to Haymitch.

Just then they heard the front door open and a woman’s voice address the maid who was coming down the hall with their refreshments. “We have visitors, Octavia?” the voice said from just outside the parlor door.

“Come here, my dear,” Portia called out, as they all rose to their feet. “You remember your Uncle Haymitch.”

A young woman breezed into the room and exclaimed, “Uncle Haymitch!” and then stopped when she saw he hadn’t come alone.

Portia reached out to draw Katniss and her mother forward, “I’d like for you to meet Haymitch’s wife, Laughing Bird and her daughter, Katniss.” The young woman’s eyes grew wide, clearly suspecting who it was that stood in front of her. Portia moved over to her daughter’s side. “This is Annalise, my daughter. Your half-sister, Katniss.”

Annalise was the polar-opposite of Katniss in many ways. She was tall, like her mother, sharing her almost platinum blonde hair and blue eyes. She appeared to be at least five years older than Katniss. She had been conceived during one of her father’s lengthy sojourns in St. Louis, while her mother and brothers remained back home.

The young woman stepped forward and held out her hand in greeting, “I always wondered if I would meet any of my siblings.” Katniss released her tense breath. “And please, everyone calls me Annie.”

Once they had finished their refreshments, during which they discussed their journey back to ‘the states’ and other small talk, Haymitch said he would give up his room for his wife and daughter and find accommodation elsewhere, to which Portia exclaimed, “Nonsense!”

Portia asked the maid, Octavia, to set up a suite of rooms for her guests. Haymitch explained he wouldn’t be there long, that he was here on business to purchase goods to take back west with him.

“But you must stay at least until I can properly introduce your family to St. Louis society. I will be hosting a party to welcome home Annalise’s fiancé when he returns on leave, the weekend after next,” she insisted. “We will be announcing their engagement.”

Haymitch agreed he could stay a couple of weeks, but no more. “I have a young partner who’s all on his own. He’s new to that part of the country, and I wouldn’t feel right abandoning him for too long.” Katniss felt a pang in her chest.

“You are a good man, Haymitch. You were such a dependable partner to my late husband. Our late husband,” she said with a wink at Laughing Bird. “I know you will do right by this one, too.”

“Which means I should get going and begin to put together my order,” Haymitch said and got to his feet, “And let you ladies get on with whatever you need to do.”

Portia rose to her feet. “Annie dear, why don’t you show Katniss to her room and help her settle in. Put her in the Garden Room, and Haymitch and Laughing Bird can have the River Room.” She turned to Katniss’s mother, “I think I’d like to have some time to talk with Laughing Bird. Would you join me in a walk? I’d love to show you the grounds.”

Haymitch walked the two older women to the door, as Annie led Katniss up a wide staircase to the upper floors. She was shown into a large bedroom complete with its own sitting and dressing area. Annie opened the curtains, while the maid went to work making up the bed and unpacking Katniss’s scant belongings. She couldn’t help stare at Annie’s lovely dress, in various shades of pink, with lace trim and very full petticoats. Both Annie and her mother wore their hair gathered low at the back of their heads in an elaborate bun, with ringlets framing their faces. Her own hair hung in its usual double braids.

Annie caught her eye and smiled. “Don’t worry about your clothing. There’s nothing my mother loves more than to keep our dressmaker busy. We’ll put together a new wardrobe for you, and you will fit right in. But until then, you can borrow mine. We’re close to the same size, though I’m taller. It’ll be easy to adjust the hem.” She reached over to touch one of Katniss’s braids. “You have gorgeous hair. Mine is so fine compared to how thick yours is. If you’ll let me, I’d love to pin it up for you. It’s the fashion here.”

Katniss nodded and walked over to the window, still speechless at their reception, the room, the prospect of new clothing, everything. The term ‘Garden Room’ was appropriate. Below the window were elegant flower beds filled with a variety of ornamental shrubs and perennials in bloom. She took comfort in the choice of room, as it reminded her just a little of the wildflowers. The pang in her chest returned.

All the way to St. Louis, she had wrestled with her dilemma. With long, uneventful days on the trail, she pondered what had happened between her and Peeta. When the March blizzard hit, she’d been the first one to speak up with concern about the bereaved Dutchman. Katniss had threatened to saddle her pony and go herself if nothing was done about it.

“Nobody’s going anywhere in these conditions,” Haymitch declared. “But as soon as the weather allows for it, I’ll go find him and bring him back myself.”

“No,” her mother had said in a soft voice. When father and daughter turned to her, she declared with authority, “Katniss should go.”

Haymitch balked at the idea, and had taken his wife’s arm and led her aside. Katniss couldn’t hear the precise words of their whispers, but she knew what was likely being discussed. To send her, unescorted, to spend time in the company of a man who had been alone for many months was, at the least, an unconventional choice.

“It’s what is needed, for both of them,” her mother declared. Then she glanced at her daughter. Katniss understood the implication. Their partner’s life was at stake, and she was the one best positioned to give him a reason to return to them. A flutter of anxiety gave her a moment of doubt.

“I’m not sure about this.” Haymitch shook his head. “It’s a lot to ask of…”

“I’ll go.” Katniss wasn’t certain where her resolve had come from, but at the time, some dormant instinct buried deep in her gut had prompted the answer.

She was curious why her mother thought it was in her best interests, too. But, caught up in the plan, she hadn’t asked, and her mother had never explained.

What happened in those two weeks at the cabin hadn’t been unexpected. But what had taken Katniss by surprise was how spending time with Peeta had stirred something inside of her. She couldn’t deny that Peeta had captured her imagination from the beginning. However, as he was her friend’s husband, she had encased her attraction within safe walls. But the time they had spent together had awoken a passion and given it a life all of its own. The grandeur of the place, the wildflowers, Peeta himself… it had all seemed so clear.

The further she got from home, though, the more she questioned her future. The fact that she could have become pregnant while up in the mountains had, at the time, hardly seemed a concern, but now the thought made her blood run cold. The conflict between desire and fear twisted deep in her chest. It was colored by guilt, for encouraging Peeta’s love. It had been unfair of her to leave him with the hope that there could be more between them when she returned home.

Because, even if she learned to read, even if she placed herself in Portia’s capable hands and allowed herself to be remade for St. Louis society, would anything really change? Inside, she knew the truth of whom she was, and doubted any amount of luxurious fabric, elegant hairstyles or fancy parties could erase that fact.

And yet, despite her reluctance to bring up a family in this world, she loved Peeta, even if she hadn’t been able to say the words aloud. She was filled with gratitude for his encouragement and understanding. Katniss feared that she’d lose whatever would be left between them, due to her rejection.

She saw Portia and Laughing Bird walking slowly, arm in arm through the garden. They were deep in conversation, and Katniss would have liked to be privy to what it was they were discussing. She gave her head a small shake at the thought of the two women on such close terms. Regardless of her anxieties, she was relieved by just how welcoming her St. Louis ‘family’ had been to her and her mother.

“It will be so nice to have a sister,” Annie said, and came alongside of her.

“Your mother mentioned that you’re engaged,” Katniss said, and Annie’s smile lit up her face.

“Oh yes! I can’t wait for you to meet Finnick. He’s a Captain in the Army. His home base is near here, at the Jefferson Barracks, but he’s been up in Fort Leavenworth for several months. I miss him terribly. But such is the life married to a military man, I suppose.”

A brief memory of her friend Gale flashed into her mind, but before she could give it another thought, Annie dragged her arm towards the door. “Come on, let me show you your mother’s room. It has an amazing view over the Mississippi River.”

Two days later, Portia and Annie accompanied Katniss to meet her teachers. They stepped out of their carriage in front of a great cathedral the likes Katniss had never seen before. She was awed by the soaring rooflines and the beautiful stained glass windows.

“Is this where I will go to school?” she asked, incredulous.

“Oh no,” Portia answered. “This is the church. The convent school is around the back in its own building.” She waved up at the entrance to the impressive building. “It’s even more spectacular on the inside!” Portia laughed, leading the way along a path around the side of the great church.

“Are Mennonite churches like this?” she asked Annie, who walked beside her.

Annie laughed, “Most definitely not! Why do you ask?”

“Someone I know.” Annie raised her eyebrows, prompting Katniss to add, “He’s my father’s new partner. And my… friend.” She felt guilty at referring to Peeta in such a way, but was uncertain how to define what existed between them.

However, it didn’t escape her sister’s keen observation. “Hmm…” she said with a sly grin. “You must tell me all about this friend of yours.” Katniss wasn’t sure how ready she was to divulge details of her relationship with Peeta.

One of the church’s sisters met them at the door to the convent school house. After Portia made introductions, she and Annie left Katniss for her first day of instruction. Katniss thought her instructor was unnecessarily rigid, but she was determined to learn. She kept her opinions to herself, rather than offend the nun or disrespect everyone who had arranged for her schooling. Her first day was comprised of learning the alphabet and the pronunciation of letters. It was a lot to remember.

That evening after supper, Katniss, her parents, and her ‘cousins’, as she was practicing to refer to Portia and Annie, retired to the parlor to discuss Katniss’s introduction to St. Louis society.

“I will present you all as we discussed, but since Laughing Bird is anxious to avoid any unnecessary controversy, we will focus the attention on Katniss,” Portia said. “It will be a gentle introduction, an afternoon garden party this weekend.”

She explained who would be there, but Katniss found her mind wandering, until the topic of her ‘story’ came up.

“Laughing Bird,” Portia said. “I take it that our late husband never located the source of that gold nugget he got from your father.” Katniss had heard a little about it.

Haymitch grumbled. “Everdeen spent years dragging his family all over her family’s ancestral lands, after Laughing Bird’s father passed away. It was an obsession.”

Her mother nodded, “Yes, he never gave up, right until he died. But we never found it, though I took him everywhere I could remember living as a child. I think that was part of the reason he kept coming back to me, hoping to find that gold.”

“You didn’t look for the gold, Uncle Haymitch?” Annalise asked.

“No,” Haymitch grunted. “Couldn’t be bothered to waste the time. That’s what got Everdeen killed. An encounter with an unfriendly Ute hunting party in the area he was searching.” He turned to Laughing Bird. “He never saw the treasure right in front of him.”

Annalise let out an “Awww,” which made Haymitch turn red. He reached for his cup of tea. The women all had grins on their faces.

“My father made a lot of money marketing the beaver pelts you two brought him,” Portia said. “But as a silversmith, I think he was greatly compelled to sponsor your trapping expeditions because of that promising gold just waiting to be found. I suppose it will remain a fascinating bit of folklore.” She took a sip of tea before speaking again.

“Here’s what I am thinking. I have invited the editor of our newspaper, ‘The St. Louis Republican’, to attend my party. I will mention that Laughing Bird’s father was a great chief, and drop a hint that you, Katniss, are an heiress to his secret gold.”

“But it’s a lie!” Katniss protested. Her grandfather had been a renowned warrior who had achieved great feats of bravery for his tribe, but not a chief. And he certainly was never in the possession of any gold, other than that one nugget he found by accident.

“My dear, it is all about image. You’ll be perceived as some kind of Indian royalty. That and the smell of money will get you in the door. Trust me, it will be the real you that wins them over. Eventually, it won’t matter what the truth is.”

Katniss thought about it. She considered that acceptance and respect were ultimately what she sought. But to build that foundation on a lie?

Katniss turned to her parents. “What do you think?”

Haymitch blew out a deep breath and exchanged a look with his wife. “Well, I think Portia knows more about these things than the rest of us. I think we should trust her judgment.”

And so it was decided that Katniss would be unveiled as some kind of Arapaho princess and gold-heiress. It didn’t sit well with the girl in question.

The afternoon of the garden party, Portia happily escorted her protégé around from person to person, making introductions. Katniss found herself mostly tongue-tied, uncertain what to say as she felt eyes examining her. Fortunately, Portia was more than eager to do most of the talking.

To Katniss’s relief, Annie came and whisked her away on the pretense of sampling some of the treats laid out on a long, linen-covered table. Katniss was grateful for something to eat to settle her nervous stomach. But after a few of the delicate sandwiches, and a sampling from the platter that held a variety of cheeses, she had to stop.

She squirmed in the pretty dress that Annie had given to her. It was pale yellow with thin gold stripes and ribbon detail. The color had been selected at Portia’s insistence to reinforce the ‘gold-heiress’ ruse. Her shoes pinched her feet. She longed to kick them off and go barefoot, or better yet, slip into the comfort of her moccasins. She wanted to pull the pins from her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. The tight corset felt like a cage that only grew more restrictive as the day wore on. With ravenous eyes, Katniss stared at the strawberry tarts and glazed squares, but the irritatingly tight dress was not going to cooperate.

Annie came up bearing two glasses containing a bubbly liquid that Katniss learned they called champagne. “Here, you have to try this,” she giggled.

The bubbles tickled her nose, but after a few sips Katniss thought she rather liked it. She happened to glance over at Portia speaking in furtive tones to the newspaper man. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if she slipped him some money.

The next day, Portia came into the dining room just as they were sitting down to breakfast, waving the newspaper triumphantly in her hand. “You made the society page, my dear. They are calling you the ‘Belle of St. Louis’s social season’.”

Portia read the article and with every word, Katniss felt as if the air was sucked from the room.

She must have grown pale, because Portia’s voice dropped to a more tender tone when she said, “Remember Katniss. This is just to get their attention in the most positive way. You will eclipse such silly stories with your delightful self in no time.”

Katniss hoped she was correct.

On the last day of her second week of schooling, Katniss sat at the desk in her room with a piece of blank paper in front of her. To one side lay her alphabet and many sheets of paper covered in her practice writing assignments. Opening the desk drawer, she took out the bundle of dry sagebrush, tied with a piece of leather fringe from her deerskin dress. She stared at the blank page and then reached for the fountain pen and dipped the nib into the ink well. Sounding out each syllable in her head and matching it to her alphabet as best she could, she began:

‘Dier Peeta…’

Just then, Annie tapped lightly on her door. “Come in,” she said and laid down the pen.

“I’m sorry, you were working,” Annie said. Katniss reassured her it was okay.

“Good. Mother has the dressmaker downstairs ready to do final fittings on our dresses for tomorrow night.” Annie glanced at the letter. “Is that for your ‘friend’ back home?” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Katniss nodded and rose from the desk. “If you need any help with spelling, I’d be happy to give you a hand,” Annie offered as the girls walked downstairs to meet with the dressmaker.

Katniss shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m still thinking about what I want to say.” It was partly true. She still wasn’t ready to open up about Peeta, even to someone as agreeable as her sister.

“I hope you know you can talk to me if you like. I know I talk your ears off about my Finnick.” Annie chuckled and Katniss grinned. That was definitely true.

Tomorrow was the engagement party for her sister and Captain Finnick Odair. He’d arrived home earlier in the day, though Katniss had been at school when he had come by to see his sweetheart. Annie was almost giddy with excitement, and Katniss smiled, for her sister, but also for relief that, though this party would be more formal than the last, at least she wouldn’t be the star attraction.

Early that evening, Katniss excused herself, feigning the need to rest up for the big day tomorrow. She had been kept so busy until now, that the reality of a whole year in St. Louis seemed to hit all at once.

Haymitch would leave on Monday. He had purchased thousands of dollars’ worth of trade goods and hired three wagons with drivers to help him transport it all back home. Home. The thought made her heart ache. As nice as Portia and Annie were, she was grateful to have her mother remain behind.

Katniss looked down on the flower garden in the fading light, and felt a wave of loneliness. The unfinished letter lay where she had left it, so she sat down at the desk and contemplated her words. She dipped the pen in the ink well and composed her letter to Peeta. When she reached the end, Katniss paused, debating her final words. She brought the sagebrush to her nose and drew in the aromatic scent that reminded her of home and the giver, and added one last sentence to her letter.

When she had signed her name, she blew on the paper to dry the ink, carefully folded the letter, and placed it in an envelope. She would send it home with her stepfather.

She undressed down to the loose, knee-length chemise that was worn under the many layers of clothing. At least it felt similar to her deerskin, lacking the restrictive structure of her new dresses. It was common practice to sleep in the cotton dress, but that night, as she tossed in bed, it became tangled around her body, constricting her movements. In frustration, she yanked it up over her head and tossed the cloying thing on the floor.

Sleeping naked felt normal. But still she was restless. She hugged one of her soft pillows to her body, laid her head on top and closed her eyes, but it wasn’t the same. There was no steady heartbeat in the downy thing.

Katniss slipped from beneath the sheets and went over to her desk. She picked up the sage bundle and brought it to her nose for a sniff and then ran the slender silvery leaves over her lips. It soothed her, so she brought it to bed with her, laying it on top of the pillow close to her face, so that the scent of home would fill her dreams.

The next evening, Katniss stood behind Annie in her sister’s room as she completed one final inspection of her dress. Katniss was grateful that Annie’s gorgeous ivory and sea-green silk brocade dress eclipsed the simpler lilac and cream flowered one she wore.

Annie turned to face Katniss and made an adjustment to her sister’s hair. “There. We’re ready.”

Katniss could see the sparkle in Annie’s eyes and found herself looking forward to finally meeting this man Annie hadn’t stopped gushing about since she had arrived in St. Louis. A wistful thought crossed her mind, that it must be nice to be so certain.

Annie took her arm and led her downstairs and into the room filled with elegant women and impressive men, many of them handsomely attired in their dress military uniforms.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Finnick,” Annie said for what must be the sixth time in the last hour. “There he is!” she whispered and pulled her across the room.

An attractive man with hair like burnished bronze, green eyes, and the grace of a cat, came up to them with a winning smile. Annie hadn’t been exaggerating when she had described him. He kissed his fiancée’s cheek and gazed at her with affection.

“Finnick, I’d love for you to meet Katniss.”

The striking man took her hand and brought it to his lips, “So nice to finally meet Annie’s ‘cousin’. I’ve heard so much about you.” He gave her a sly smile. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” and he gave her wink. “Let me introduce you to some of my friends.” He scanned the room and, offering an arm to each girl, led them over to a soldier standing alone looking out the window.

Katniss felt her chest tighten. She could recognize that physique anywhere, even from the back.

Finnick cleared his throat, “Lieutenant Hawthorne, I have the honor of introducing you to my fiancée’s cousin, Ka…”

He turned around, and his slate-grey eyes displayed momentary confusion, then grew wide with surprise. “Katniss.”

“Hello, Gale,” she managed to say, keeping her shock barely in check.

Gale’s face widened into a broad, toothy grin. To the astonishment of his friends, and Katniss, he scooped her into a big hug.

“Is it really you?” Gale asked when he stepped back.

Katniss laughed, and realized how good it was to find a familiar face from back home.

“I hardly recognized you,” he said, his eyes traveling up and down her form. “You look…”

“Civilized?” she answered, her one eyebrow cocked.

He frowned, then added, “I was going to say, ‘beautiful.’ What are you doing in St. Louis?”

Annie interjected, “My cousin is here to attend school.”

“It’s okay, Annie. Gale knows who I am,” Katniss whispered, “and who my… _our_ brothers are, too.”

Gale nodded. “I must admit I was surprised when Finnick mentioned he was marrying an Everdeen.”

Annie lowered her voice. “I’m so pleased to have my sister staying with us,” she added, giving Katniss’s waist a squeeze.

Gale nodded in approval, “That’s wonderful. That you’re here, getting an education. I’ve thought about our hunting adventures a lot since I left Fort John.”

“I didn’t bring my bow,” Katniss said.

“Well, at least we should set aside some time to go riding together,” he said with a smile. “It’s really great to see you again.”

He sounded like he meant it. Katniss wasn’t certain how seeing Gale made her feel. But at least she had another friend in St. Louis.


	8. Learning the Lay of the Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story returns to the trading post as Peeta has a fateful encounter with the Everdeen brothers and receives some news from Katniss after Haymitch returns from St. Louis. 
> 
> Prepare for some angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to express my thanks to bethylark for offering her help with aspects of Native American culture and history.
> 
> And I continue to be ever appreciative to finduilasnumenesse, titania522 and papofglencoe. You ladies offer the best advice and support!

**PART 4 - The Trading Post (Summer, 1845 - Spring, 1846)**

**Chapter 8 - Learning the Lay of the Land**

Peeta started out with ambitious intentions. He had over three months until Haymitch returned from St. Louis, and he planned to have the trading post ready for the goods his partner would bring back with him. That meant completing the stockade walls that Haymitch had started. It also meant preparing the Abernathys’ larger cabin to accommodate the store. When he got back, Haymitch would move into the area dedicated for living quarters at the back of the building.

The older man joked about him and Laughing Bird having more room in their home when Katniss came home. He’d given his young partner a wink, hinting that she would be moving into Peeta’s cabin. Peeta had remained quiet, but he’d allowed himself to grin in hopeful agreement.

In the first few days, Peeta welcomed the physical labor. He cut the logs that he and Haymitch had dragged back from the nearby groves the previous fall. He dug holes for the stockade posts. He sawed planks to serve as shelves in the store and floorboards for the raised lookout platforms that ran along the inside of the stockade walls. It was solitary, absorbing work, and he threw himself into the task, grateful for the distraction from the months of solitude that lay before him. But his progress was interrupted by an unexpected development.

Just as Haymitch had predicted, the small group of Pawnee showed up by the end of the first week. Peeta welcomed them as Haymitch had instructed, and they pitched their tipis down by the river. The braves patiently helped him to learn their language and taught him about their ways. Peeta appreciated the company and the sense of security that their presence provided.

One day they showed up with a basket of what Peeta identified as huckleberries. Eager to return their generosity, he was inspired to put old skills to work, so he made a pie. He shared it with his new companions and they devoured the treat with appreciative nods and grins.

The next day, they showed up with more. And then the offerings expanded to other fruits; pin cherries, wild raspberries and strawberries, gooseberries and chokecherries. Peeta scratched his head, thinking of ways to use them. He made more pies, tarts, and simple breads like he had made for Katniss up in the mountains. He even made a few jars of jam. It was all enthusiastically received. Peeta found himself spending considerable time baking and less time working on the trading post. It slowed the process of construction, but he reassured himself that building the relationship with his new friends and future customers took priority.

However, after a month had passed, Peeta began to grow concerned about his dwindling baking supplies, especially sugar. So one morning he decided to dry the berries they brought him. When the braves asked why he made no more treats, he showed them the near-empty containers. They nodded in understanding, and the next time they brought in the meat of a buffalo and built a drying rack just like Katniss had made up in the mountains. In a large pot, they rendered the animal’s suet over a low fire, turning it into tallow, the fat used to bind the ingredients in pemmican to keep it from going rancid.

Peeta had a vague memory of how Laughing Bird made her pemmican and realized what they had in mind. He assisted as they prepared the ingredients, mixing the dried pounded meat with the tallow and dried berries. They divided up the end result between them, and Peeta made his first actual trade when he took their tanned buffalo hide in exchange for tobacco and gunpowder.

But they didn’t barter when it came to the meals they created together. It remained an act of shared companionship. The braves provided the raw foods such as antelope, wild turnips and other edible roots, berries and wild onions, and Peeta was motivated to think of new ways to use the various items.

Peeta’s fondness for his mother’s cooking led him to make meat pies, and then sausage in the style he had grown up with back in Pennsylvania. When he asked them, the Pawnee brought Peeta what he needed; intestines from the animals they hunted to use for the casings, and various herbs to season the chopped meat. Despite falling behind on his construction goals, the days were productive and Peeta was pleased with the progress he’d made in settling in to his new home.

But at night he allowed his thoughts to dwell on Katniss. He’d organized his few possessions in one corner of his one-room cabin, but one thing he kept apart from the rest. The tanned hide, from the elk that Katniss had shot, sat on a shelf where he could see it from his bed. During the day, it was his habit to run a hand over it when he walked by. But at night he’d look at it and remember their first kiss, and how it had led to making love under the buffalo robes and in the wildflowers. It aroused sweet and intoxicating memories as he relived those days and nights together with Katniss, but it also reminded him of how much he missed her. Whenever he heard the lonely call of the coyotes, it stirred up a deep ache of longing.

One hot summer day, as the Pawnee tended a meal over an open fire in the yard, and Peeta worked on the stockade platform beside the entrance to the trading post yard, he saw riders approaching with speed. At first he thought that word had spread and it was more Pawnee come to visit. He sighed at another lost day of construction work.

However, the hackles stood up on the back of his neck when he realized these riders were not coming in with the casual demeanor of his new friends. The large group of braves swept into the enclosure, and no sooner had the dust settled and the lead rider dismounted, when Peeta’s eyes widened in surprise. Then a smile came to his face.

Peeta had met this man before and he was delighted to remake his acquaintance. He had a new connection to Frank Everdeen, given his love for this man’s sister, and was pleased to meet on more familiar terms. But instead, his happiness was quickly extinguished when Frank and the other braves moved threateningly on the outnumbered Pawnee. He couldn’t understand what was being yelled, but the aggressiveness was unmistakable.

The Pawnee began to gather up their things in haste. They were beaten and whipped as they prepared to leave. This incensed Peeta. These were his friends who had shown him kindness, and regardless of the fact that Frank was Katniss’s brother, he would not stand for this rudeness.

“These men are my guests! You have no right to…”

He was startled by the speed of Frank’s response as the taller man leapt at him, his eyes wild. And then they narrowed in recognition.

“You,” was all he said, but after a moment of consideration, he shoved Peeta to the ground and bellowed, his voice bearing the traces of accent from both his French Canadian and Arapaho heritage, “This is none of your business! This is Arapaho land. The Pawnee are not welcome!”

Indignant, Peeta wasn’t about to be intimidated and got to his feet. “This trading post belongs to me and to my partner Haymitch Abernathy,” he insisted. “Everyone is welcome here.”

Frank’s eyes grew hard and his mouth sneered, “My mother’s land, and ours! You are nothing. You are only here if we say you can stay.”

“And Haymitch is her husband,” he retorted stubbornly, paused and then blurted out, “And it’ll be mine, too, when I marry your sister.”

That got the man’s attention. “Marry Katniss?” he snorted.

Peeta wasn’t certain if the expression on his face was one of anger, confusion or disgust.

The momentary lapse in his resolve disappeared, and Frank resumed his rant, threatening the Pawnee as they mounted their ponies to make their retreat. But one young brave, no older than maybe fourteen or fifteen, appeared to yell back an insult in his native tongue as the rest of his group exited the stockade. Outraged, Frank leapt onto his horse, and to Peeta’s horror, when he reached the lad, he pulled him down from his mount and attacked him with a knife.

Instinctively, Peeta ran at Frank, pulling him off the boy’s body, oblivious to the folly of his brazen act. But he was too late; the youth was already dead.

Frank grabbed Peeta by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. But instead of turning his knife on Peeta, Frank leaned within inches of Peeta’s face, his hot breath on his skin, and sneered. “No Pawnee. They are enemies.” He gave a sharp nod towards his companions. “Only Arapaho or Cheyenne.”

“These are my friends, and this one was just a boy!”

“He died a warrior!” Frank snarled back as if it was a great honor. “Maybe you die, too,” he added in a low, menacing tone.

Peeta looked around the post, only just beginning to realize how vulnerable he was. The others stood as quiet witnesses, while Frank seemed to dissolve into a state of frenzy. He ran about the post slashing with his bloody knife at the buildings, the walls, even the water well, ranting.

“If we say so, this all goes!” He grabbed a small log from the fire and waved it about. “It will all burn!” He rushed back at Peeta, but Peeta, still traumatized by the boy’s murder, stood rooted to the ground.

Face to face again, eyes locked on each other, Peeta gasped for breath. He remained mute and made no offensive move, but neither did he shrink from Frank. And the fire seemed to burn out of the man’s eyes.

Frank tossed the burning wood back on the fire and dropped his hands to his side, looking weary. He glanced around the compound, at his silent companions, and then his gaze returned to Peeta. “You can stay. And the trading post. But no Pawnee.”

Outside the stockade walls, the Pawnee quickly collected their dead companion and left without further incident.

Just as Peeta was deliberating whether or not his life was still in danger, Frank said something in an unfamiliar language to the other braves. He gestured for them all to mount their ponies and leave. They rode out of the post at a gallop, except for one man who remained standing over by the stockade wall. Peeta swallowed, his heart still racing from the encounter. He realized by the man’s grey eyes that it was the younger Everdeen brother, Matt, who remained. Wary, he waited to see what would happen.

The man regarded him calmly and said, “I’ll stay. Keep you company. Make sure you don’t get into trouble.” He smirked and Peeta allowed himself to give a cautious smile in reply as his heartbeat started to slow.

Much to his surprise, Peeta soon discovered that Matt Everdeen, much less volatile than his older brother, was a likable fellow. Over the next few weeks, the fear from the recent events was replaced with an emerging new friendship. It was confusing, given what Peeta had experienced.

“You really going to marry Katniss?” Matt asked as he helped set the posts for the corral.

“If she’ll have me,” Peeta replied with a winning smile. He explained that she and Laughing Bird were back east so that his sister could attend school. Matt expressed his approval.

Matt took time to teach Peeta some of the Arapaho language, and he watched with curiosity as Peeta made his sausage. When he sampled it, he declared it was very good.

A month after Katniss’s brother had arrived, they were relaxing in the shade outside Peeta’s cabin, taking a break during the hottest part of the day. They had been getting along so well that Peeta felt compelled to bring up the matter of the Pawnee.

“Your stepfather asked them to come and help me. I understand that this is your people’s land, but why must you resort to violence?”

Matt cocked his eyebrows knowingly. “Whites don’t fight over land? What would people do if someone came and tried to take your land, back where you come from?”

Peeta had to concede the point. His ancestors had come to America after fleeing persecution, and he understood the importance of having a home safe from harassment. But after a moment of thought he added, “But how do you know who owns the land? The prairies are so big and there aren’t any fences.”

Matt smiled patiently. “We know. And maybe we cross over into each other’s lands, but we all fight to protect what is ours. Everyone understands this. Some tribes are our allies and are welcome, like the Cheyenne. Others, like the Pawnee, are not.”

Peeta frowned and acknowledged that he had much to learn.

“The white men call us thieves, but for us, it is a sign of great cunning and bravery to sneak into another tribe’s camp and capture something from your enemy,” Matt explained, causing Peeta to furrow his brow. “Our grandfather was a great man who stole many horses from the Comanche. That brave feat was a great victory for Our People.”

Peeta leaned forward and started to chuckle. When Matt looked at him with a crooked, questioning smile, he explained, “When my community cast me out, I took my family’s horses to come out west. I always felt a little guilty about that.”

Matt laughed, and slapped him on the back. “Maybe you’re more like us, eh?”

Peeta took comfort in building this rapport with one of Katniss’s brothers, but he wondered if it could be the same with the other. It occurred to him how he hadn’t seen any people around since Frank and his group of braves had departed. So he brought it up.

“Frank’s not far away, keeping an eye on things,” Matt said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Why doesn’t he come back and stay, like you?”

“He’s still trying to figure you out.”

Peeta was confused, but then said, “He confuses me a little, too. He seems to hate a lot of people, but two times he could have killed me, when I was weaponless.”

 “Have you ever heard about ‘counting coup’?” Matt asked. When Peeta shook his head, he explained. “It’s an act of great courage between warriors. To rush in close enough to touch the enemy without resorting to weapons. To take them by surprise or skill. You surprised Frank. He respects that. But you’re also white, so he’s unsure.”

Peeta frowned but spoke earnestly, “It shouldn’t have to be that way. Everyone should be judged on their own merits, regardless of their race.”

Matt smiled, but there was weariness in the expression. “But it isn’t that way.”

 “It is here,” Peeta insisted. “We’re friends, working together. You and Frank have let me stay, accepted the trading post.”

Matt nodded, but leaned forward and placed a hand on Peeta’s shoulder. “Here, we are allies.” He waved his hand indicating out to the prairies, “But out there, maybe we meet and we’re enemies. Maybe even kill each other.”

Peeta shook his head stubbornly. “We can be better than that, find a way to not let other people’s prejudice turn us into monsters.”

“Maybe not you and me,” he answered sadly. “But it will happen one day. The day will come and there will be much blood spilled.”

Peeta leaned back against the wall and ruminated on this dire prediction. He pondered how the world could be set right in light of their circumstances. But his worry settled on concern for one person most of all - Katniss.

One day in late August, Peeta saw wagons approaching. With a cheerful whoop, he scrambled down the ladder from the stockade platform and met Haymitch as the first wagon pulled through the gateway into the interior of the trading post. He was excited to see his partner again and desperate to hear news of Katniss.

“You’re still alive,” Haymitch barked as a greeting. “That’s a good sign.”

Peeta grinned, barely able to conceal his enthusiasm. “I had help,” he said. “Matt Everdeen has been helping me with the corral and other things.”

Haymitch raised his eyebrows and scanned the yard. It was only then that Peeta noticed that Katniss’s brother and his pony were missing.

Haymitch sighed. “He saw me coming.”

They unloaded boxes, crates, sacks and wooden barrels, all containing a myriad of tools, foods, household goods and popular trade items. When the hired drivers were paid, they and two of the wagons were sent on their way. The partners spent the rest of the afternoon unloading the remaining merchandise from the third wagon, and hauled everything into the new store.

When Peeta said he hoped he’d bought lots of flour and sugar, Haymitch asked why. Peeta filled him in on his new side business that had become popular.

Peeta also told him about the encounter between the Pawnee and the Everdeens. Haymitch frowned but didn’t say much as Peeta described the horrible event. When he was done, Peeta leaned against the wagon and waited for Haymitch’s response.

“It’s bound to happen when tribes cross borders, but it’s a big country with lots of open land and not a lot of people to get in each other’s way. I’d hoped our trading post might be seen as neutral ground.”

“I don’t get it,” Peeta said. “Frank was outraged, even though the rest seemed to take it all in stride. I think the others would have let the Pawnee go without resorting to killing. Even Matt was calm compared to him.”

“The boys have had a special hatred for the Pawnee ever since they and their father got ambushed by them. Both Everdeen and Frank were badly injured. My old partner shrugged it off as nothing out of the ordinary, but Frank isn’t one to let go of grudges. And you already know that he still hates me even after all these years.”

Peeta finally understood the deeper, personal source of Frank’s rage. He bore the scars from both races. No wonder he was a bitter, distrustful man. Haymitch mentioned that, while he was traveling home, the Everdeen brothers and their group of militant braves from the Cheyenne tribe, had come up in discussion with the soldiers at various forts. They had ambushed an ammunition convoy and the army’s frustration with them was growing.

Peeta replied that he’d managed to make peace at their trading post, which made Haymitch pensive. “I’ll admit, that’s quite an accomplishment. I regret how things are between me and Laughing Bird’s sons. But I fear they are always going to be unpredictable when it comes to the things and people close to them.”

It occurred to Peeta that this included their sister, and he was determined to find a way to win over both her brothers.

With recent events out of the way, there was one pressing bit of news that Peeta was eager to discuss. Once the last of the goods was stowed away inside the store, they retired to Peeta’s cabin to make supper. Peeta’s anticipation had been temporarily distracted by the day’s activity, but when evening rolled around and the men sat down to eat, he could stand it no longer.

“So,” he said cautiously, “How was St. Louis?”

Haymitch smirked and reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I’m guessing this is what you’re most interested in.”

He tossed it to Peeta who looked at it, suddenly nervous to read its contents. “What does it say?” he asked.

Haymitch screwed up his face and gave him a pained look. “How the hell would I know?”

Peeta smiled sheepishly and nodded. Haymitch couldn’t read, of course.

“There’s something else, too,” the older man said and handed him a folded piece of newsprint. “It’s about Katniss. Thought you’d appreciate knowing that she’s settled in just fine.” After a minute of observing Peeta holding the envelope with care, he asked, “Well, are you just gonna stare at it or actually read it?”

Peeta got up from the table and went to sit by the fireplace. The light was better there, but the truth was, he didn’t care to be watched as he read this first message from Katniss. With anxious hands, he removed the letter from the envelope. He couldn’t repress a soft chuckle at the sight of the careful printing and childlike spelling. But each word was a delight to his eyes.

 _Dier Peeta,_  
_This is the first letir I rit. Pepol ar nis to me. Nuns help me lern. I hav a big bedrum nir a prity gardn. But I remembr the wild flowrs. I hop yu ar not lonlee…_

But it was the last line that made his heart leap inside his chest.

_I luv yu. Katniss_

Next, he read the article from the society page and felt a surge of pride for Katniss. He wasn’t surprised by her reception, though it triggered a flicker of foreboding in the back of his mind. Ignoring the worrisome sensation, he asked Haymitch about the mention in the article of Katniss’s grandfather being a great chief with a secret gold mine. His partner huffed, and said it was all hogwash as far as he was concerned. Peeta turned his attention back to the letter.

“You gonna eat, or just sit there with a stupid grin on your face and your eyes burning a hole in that paper?” the man grumbled.

Peeta folded the letter and placed it carefully back in the envelope, and laid it on the small table beside his bed.

As they ate, Haymitch brought up how, when talking with people back in St. Louis, he was told that they should stake out their property so they could file their claim to the land.

“Right now, this is all considered open land, but the day will come when it will matter.”

“What about the Arapaho and their claims?” Peeta asked. It was difficult to reconcile the matter in his mind after all he had experienced in the past couple of months. And apparently, it was a dilemma for his partner, too, even after all the years he’d lived in this part of the world.

Haymitch pursed his lips. “That’s a whole other issue. But for now, I think it best we file our claims back east and see how it goes.”

The next day, they paced off sections of choice land on either side of the river beside their trading post.

As the summer turned into fall, and news of their trading post spread, Indians began to bring in valuable buffalo robes to barter for goods. They sampled Peeta’s baked goods as well. His reputation grew and more people began to show up, not just from the surrounding tribes, but the occasional trapper, to try out his unique style of pemmican and sausage, and the fruit and meat pies. Soon Peeta expanded his offerings to include cookies and his own hearty sourdough bread.

Over the winter, the store was beginning to enjoy a steady clientele. Meanwhile, they built a shelter for the ponies and storage sheds for surplus merchandise. Haymitch began to discuss his return to St. Louis in the spring. He’d take the impressive supply of buffalo robes that they had accumulated, now much in desire back east, and purchase a greater variety of goods, in anticipation of even more business the coming year.

“As soon as the weather improves, I’ll head up to Fort John and pick up some supplies to tide you over while I’m gone to fetch Laughing Bird and Katniss.”

Peeta felt a flood of warmth flow through him at the thought that in just a few months Katniss would be home. One look at Haymitch and he could tell he shared a similar longing for his wife.

“I’ve never spent this long apart from Laughing Bird, ever since we got together,” he said. “It reminds me of all the years I spent loving her from a distance when she was married to my old partner.”

Peeta hadn't heard the story and he was curious. “When did you know you were in love with her?”

“Right from the start. But her father thought Everdeen was a better choice.” He gazed into the flames from the fireplace, drinking the special tea he’d brought home with him. “Everdeen was the brash one, the one who showed no fear. I hesitated, too shy and uncertain.” He shrugged.

“What about Laughing Bird? Didn’t she have any say?” Peeta asked.

“She honored her father’s wishes. But in truth, I think she cared for us both.” The corner of his mouth tweaked up a bit and he added, “But I know if it had only been up to her, she would have picked me.” Haymitch gave a sad sigh. “It caused friction between me and Everdeen, and their sons, too. So, I eventually had to leave them.”

“How long did you have to wait until you were able to be together?” Peeta asked with empathy.

Haymitch was wistful when he replied, “Almost twenty years.”

Peeta couldn’t imagine being separated from Katniss in such a way.

The next day, and after a night with Katniss’s letter lying on his chest as he slept, he announced that as soon as the weather permitted, he wanted to take a couple of days and ride back up to the cabin. The notion had come to Peeta that he wanted to stake another claim up in the mountains. Something inside made him yearn to own the spot that had held such significance a year ago.

“Why on earth would you want to claim that worthless piece of land?” Haymitch asked.

“Because it’s important to me,” he answered and the older man nodded in understanding.

When the thaw arrived, Haymitch declared it was time to make the run up to Fort John, and then, as soon as he returned, to head east.

“Well get on with it,” he told Peeta about his plan to head into the mountains. “We can’t afford to delay, it’s only going to get busier around here.”

So Peeta took one of their ponies and rode up to the little cabin. He wasn’t surprised to find the slopes green but bare of wildflowers. It was just like Katniss had described. Only a few stubborn dandelions colored the ridge that year. But he was filled with joy just from returning to the place that had changed his life.

When he got back, he and Haymitch drew out the plots of land that they had claimed on a map and Peeta wrote out the particulars. Haymitch tucked the papers away to take back east as soon as he returned from Fort John.

While his partner was away, the longing that had been ignited in his heart from his trip back to the cabin prompted Peeta to consider that perhaps he should go to St. Louis instead. The possibility to see Katniss that much sooner and make the journey home together filled him with anticipation. He took out Katniss’s letter and was motivated to convince Haymitch as soon as he returned.

The first thing out of Haymitch’s mouth when he brought the wagon with replenished supplies to a stop in front of their store was to complain, with mock insult, that they were calling his trading post, Mellark’s Farm. He claimed that he should be offended that his young partner was getting all the credit because of his baked goods and preserved meats. But, because he was man who never enjoyed fame, Haymitch informed Peeta that he had confirmed the name.

He also mentioned that there were more settlers coming out than ever, and the army was increasing their presence to protect them. The partners agreed that it could only inflame more conflict with the plains tribes.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Haymitch exclaimed, and reached into a saddle bag.  
Inside was a page from the St. Louis newspaper that had been set aside for him at the fort.

“For you, all the way from St. Louis,” he teased. “When I asked about it, they told me it had to do with Katniss. I figured you’d be anxious for news.” With a smirk he stuffed the paper into his young partner’s hands. Peeta’s heart pounded in his chest as he came around from behind the counter. “Go on, I’ll finish here,” Haymitch said and returned to unloading the goods on shelves.

Peeta stepped outside and sat down on the bench beside the door. He unfolded the page and scanned the headlines looking for mention of Katniss, all the while trying to disregard his disappointment that there was no accompanying letter. But given how hungry he was for any scrap of information, he refused to be ungrateful.

On the right side of the page, near the bottom, he saw it.

The words were like a punch in the gut, robbing him of the ability to breathe and making his heart clench. He checked the publication date of the paper, trying to make sense of it. September, 1845. Six months ago. Furrowing his brows, hoping that he had misunderstood, he reread the entire article. There was no confusion.

“So what’s the news that’s going to keep you distracted for the next few months?” Haymitch joked in a good natured tone when he stepped outside. As soon as he saw the expression on Peeta’s face, his face grew serious. “What? What’s it say?”

But the words wouldn’t form. Peeta could barely manage the air to keep breathing. He held the paper away from him like it was a viper and let it drop to the ground. Haymitch picked it up out of the dirt and stared at it, as if he could make sense of it. Peeta looked at him, the pain clear in his eyes. Without a word, he got up and walked across the yard and out the post’s gateway, leaving his partner standing in confusion by the door.

The words were burned into Peeta’s mind. Once read, it could not be taken back.

_…we predict another wedding this autumn! It would appear that the the lovely Katniss Abernathy is likely to follow her cousin, Annalise Everdeen, by walking down the aisle in the near future. The lucky prospective groom, one Lieutenant Gale Hawthorne, of New Hampshire, has apparently won the heart of the captivating young heiress…_

Peeta sat by the river and berated himself for not listening to his sense of reason. Hadn’t he been the one who had questioned what a plain man such as himself could possibly have to offer a girl like Katniss? He recalled the lieutenant, her old friend, dashing in his uniform at Fort John. The soldier, having seen Katniss in his world, finally realized that she was not only suitable, but the extraordinary girl that Peeta recognized from the beginning. It didn’t matter that Hawthorne should have seen it all along.

The officer could offer her a life that Peeta couldn’t and Katniss had made her choice. As hurt as he was, he understood. She had bloomed in St. Louis, as he knew she would, but for him, it was as if the wildflowers had had their time. It was over. All that was left was the sorrow from having had her love only to have it snatched away.

He didn’t notice his partner come alongside until he felt a hand on his shoulder as the man sat down beside him. He read the article aloud to Haymitch when it was placed in his hands.

Haymitch gave a huff. “When I get to St. Louis, I’ll talk this nonsense out of that girl,” he grumbled.

But Peeta pointed to the date at the top of the page. “This was written way back in September. It’s already too late,” he said, despondent.

The older man shook his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t make any sense. Any fool could see how she feels about you. And why would Laughing Bird not do something? She knew you were the one for her daughter when we sent Katniss to find you. And I agreed.”

Though it touched Peeta that he had Katniss’s parents’ approval, it didn’t much matter now. “Maybe if I’d agreed to teach her to read myself, if I hadn’t encouraged her to…”

“No,” Haymitch said with conviction. “You took a risk out of love, and did what was best for her. That’s the kind of man you are.”

Peeta remembered Katniss’s story about the porcupine. “What am I supposed to do now?” he asked.

Haymitch shrugged and sat silent for a time. “Get on with life. Marry someone else,” he answered, his voice tinged with bitterness.

“Like you did?” Peeta replied. Haymitch nodded, acknowledging the absurdity.

Neither of them had an answer. So they just sat there beside the river, watching as it flowed past, one with his hand resting on the other’s shoulder in sympathetic support, muttering to himself about the unfathomable nature of women. And the other with his face in his hand and his heart breaking.

The next week, Haymitch got into his wagon and left for St. Louis. It was a beautiful morning in early April, full of the promise of warm spring days to come. But as Peeta watched him leave, alone once again, his heartache gave way to cold resignation.

 

**NOTE: the processing and preparation of food, including making pemmican was, to my understanding, generally the responsibility of women in Plains tribal society. For creative purposes, I have depicted it as being done by the Pawnee braves. I imagine that seeing a white man, such as Peeta, as a baker and cook would have been fascinating to them.**


	9. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School, a busy social life, self-reflection, and a big decision all add up to an eventful year for Katniss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deepest thanks to (on tumblr) finduilasnumenesse, titania522, papofglencoe and bethylark for all the ways you have helped me in writing this story. <3!

**PART 5 - St. Louis (Summer, 1845 - Spring, 1846)**

**Chapter 9 - Choices**

The summer passed in a whirlwind of activity. Not only did Katniss have her schooling, which she tackled with dogged determination, but there was also a seemingly endless array of amusements to occupy her time. At first she resented being taken away from her studies, but by the end of the first month, Katniss found that she had begun to find the social engagements tolerable.

And then she grew to enjoy and even look forward to the diversions. She gave credit to Annie and Finnick, who took a protective interest in making her feel welcome and a part of their social circle. And of course, Portia was always on hand to make the most of presenting her in the best light.

It wasn’t long before Katniss became aware that people no longer looked at her like some kind of exotic creature on display, and that she was fitting in with ease. She was, as Portia had predicted, a popular girl blending in well with the privileged society that surrounded her. She found purpose in her schooling, and with each gathering she gained new confidence.

She liked how men tipped their hats when she arrived at a dinner party, and how the women no longer looked at her with suspicion, but with admiration and maybe even a hint of envy. But despite the acceptance she received, a tiny insecurity dwelled in the back of Katniss’s mind. Though people smiled and welcomed her, she couldn’t help wonder if there would come a day they would discover she wasn’t a cultured beauty like the impressive roses in Portia’s garden, but rather an objectionable weed that had no place beside them.

And then there was Gale. Having an old friend that she connected to life on the prairies had been a welcome addition. While her mother provided an anchor to home and to the person Katniss was underneath the fancy attire, having Gale by her side helped to relieve some of the anxiety that lived in the pit of her stomach. After weeks of parties at the Everdeen mansion, dances at the army base, and trips on river boats together, they fell into a predictable and safe rhythm. Whenever Finnick and Annie attended a function, it became an unspoken understanding that Katniss would be escorted on Gale’s arm.

At first it was simply convenient, just like it had been back at Fort John. It kept the unwanted suitors in check. But then one day, Katniss became aware that everyone, even her sister and her fiancé, began to see them as an actual couple. The lone exception was Laughing Bird, whose soft brown eyes looked on with silent introspection. And then Katniss realized it wasn’t just other people. She noticed that Gale politely ignored the attention of other women who made eyes at him, and there were many women who did.

Katniss understood how it all appeared. But there was a reason that she had come to St. Louis, and it wasn’t to fall into another serious relationship. This year was supposed to be about getting an education and figuring out what she wanted. And she realized that her need for a friend who was familiar with the Katniss from back home had inadvertently created another misconception.

One hot day in August, Katniss was feeling more prickly than usual. She blamed the heat, but the oppressiveness she sensed wasn’t limited to the air temperature. She and Gale were invited to a formal dinner hosted by one of Annie’s friends. Her sister and Finnick had already left, but Katniss remained in her room, struggling to tame her uncooperative hair into a stylish bun at the nape of her neck.

Laughing Bird tapped softly at her door, and announced that Gale was growing restless. “He’s wondering what’s keeping you.”

Katniss growled in frustration, “I can’t get it to stay neatly in place!”

Her mother came up behind her, and the taking hair pins, began to secure the strands for her. In the soft, patient tone that was her way, Laughing Bird said, “There. Now you look lovely.”

“And nothing like myself,” Katniss muttered. “Well, I’d better get downstairs before…”

But Laughing Bird took her arm and gently turned Katniss to face her. Her dark eyes were penetrating. “Katniss, what do you mean?”

Katniss sighed. She didn’t have time to explain how, despite all the work and effort that had been made on her behalf, she had misgivings about the direction life was taking her. She kissed her mother’s cheek and with a smile told her that she meant nothing by it. The expression on her mother’s face revealed that she didn’t believe her daughter, but she didn’t press the issue.

Gale met her at the bottom of the stairs and, with a hint of irritation, informed her that they were now more than fashionably late. She snapped at him as he helped her into the carriage.

“You actually are starting to act like a rich, spoiled heiress,” he muttered.

“Oh, is that why you’re willing to put up with such a difficult, irksome date? All that gold?” she spit back, the sarcasm dripping off each clipped syllable.

“Hardly,” Gale answered. “It’s not like any of that is real anyway, _princess_.”

It wasn’t exactly the reaction she was expecting. She was spoiling for a fight for some reason, but getting called out on her fake story hit home given her self-evaluation just moments earlier. But at least he was honest. And honesty was something she should appreciate, Katniss reminded herself. She chose to ignore the queasy feeling in her gut.

On the lovely Saturday the following week, Portia proposed a trip for all of them across the Mississippi River to explore Cahokia, the mysterious Indian mounds. They spent the morning wandering the area, offering theories about the people who had built and inhabited this site.

After they shared a picnic lunch, Katniss noticed that her mother stood apart from the group, looking at the mounds with an expression of melancholy, something she was so adept at hiding most of the time. Katniss could tell that it had to do with the unexplained disappearance of this ancient tribe, because it had been on her mind as well. It was an academic discussion for Portia, Annie, Finnick and Gale, but it sat closer to home for her and her mother.

“It’s like the wildflowers, No’oo,” Katniss said, using the Arapaho word for ‘mother’. “Nothing lasts.” She felt compelled to add, “For people like us especially.”

Katniss couldn’t help believe that, whatever fate had befallen this civilization, it would likely be visited on their people, too. Laughing Bird squeezed her hand, but didn’t say anything to dispute her words. It stirred up memories of home for Katniss, and of the girl she had been growing up there.

That evening, as they sat in the Everdeen parlor, Gale read the latest developments from the newspaper, and the conversation turned to the troubles brewing out west.

Whether it was down in Texas with the Mexicans, or out on the prairies with men like her brothers, they were issues of great interest that were reported with increasing frequency. It made Katniss ponder that if it was so easy to fabricate an image about herself in the newspaper, how perhaps the facts about what was happening out west could also be distorted.

Finnick predicted that by the New Year, he and Gale would be sent to Texas, as war with Mexico seemed unavoidable.

Portia spoke up about the political pressure that would soon bring Texas into the Union. “They are calling it our ‘Manifest Destiny’. Our new president believes it is our God-given duty to see this country expand west.”

“And what do you think?” Laughing Bird asked, her face guarded.

Portia gave a huff. “It is always dangerous to evoke God to justify political ambitions.”

Katniss thought of Peeta and his shunning, and nodded. Theology could be used to excuse any number of self-serving actions by unscrupulous people.

“With Texas a slave state,” Portia continued, “I think it will only serve to increase existing tension, especially here in Missouri where we haven’t taken a firm stand. It could tip the balance away from the abolitionists, whom you know I support.”

Gale spoke up next. “Agreed. We’ve had our own mixed record on the issue in New Hampshire, and I don’t like to see our country lose whatever progress we’ve made. But expansion is inevitable, regardless of how much support there is for Polk’s ideas of Manifest Destiny. I for one, have faith that saner heads will prevail and ultimately it will be in all of our best interests to secure the lands out west under our leadership. Right now, it is largely lawless.”

Katniss’s back stiffened. She knew Gale well enough to know that hidden in his words was a thinly veiled reference to men like Frank and Matt.

“How do you know for certain that what you are hearing is a fair representation of the facts?” she replied. “You say that things are lawless, but in the years that we lived at Fort John, Mother and I saw thousands of immigrants who passed through tribal lands without incident. We heard far more stories of people dying from accidents than at the hands of men like my…” she exchanged a look with Annie, “ _our_ brothers.”

Everyone grew quiet, the tension in the room heavy at the verbal sparring that felt very personal to everyone in the room.

Katniss noticed that Annie’s face was pale and her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. Finnick placed his arm around her shoulders and changed the subject to their upcoming wedding. The date was set for mid-September, only a few weeks away, to coincide with the end of the summer social season.

“Of course, I would have preferred a spring wedding,” Annie said, injecting cheerfulness into her voice, “But Finnick’s career has to be accommodated.” She looked with affection at the man beside her, and Finnick added that they had no intention of waiting any longer.

Talk of war was replaced by the happier banter about wedding flowers, menus and entertainment. Laughing Bird mentioned how much simpler both her weddings had been. “Perhaps it doesn’t seem very romantic, but when Haymitch held out his hand to me and offered to take us with him, it was a happy day for me. I didn’t need anything more.”

Katniss privately mused about the contrast of the two worlds in which she lived.

With his fiancée placated, Finnick dared to turn the discussion to his future brothers-in-law, Frank and Matt Everdeen. He asked Laughing Bird if there was any possibility that they could attend. It was a bold and generous offer, though everyone agreed it was both unlikely given the short amount of time, and ill-advised.

“Your brothers and their cohorts have been a thorn in our sides ever since I was posted at Fort John,” Gale said.

Katniss bristled at the words and clenched her teeth. “You’ll argue about the injustice of slavery, but you still refuse to condemn what is happening with the Indian tribes,” Katniss accused her friend.

His lips grew thin as he replied, “That’s because they’re the ones shooting at us.”

Peeta's story of meeting her brothers on the Oregon Trail came to mind. “Perhaps if there was civility and respect…”

“That argument works both ways,” Gale retorted.

Annie grew upset. “Please, it’s hard enough enduring you two men heading into harm’s way in Texas, but do we need to bring conflict home to divide us here, too?”

Finnick, attempting to be conciliatory, interjected that what was needed was some kind of agreement over the land.

“But until the Indian tribes’ lands are recognized, the prairies will remain an arena of death between us and the Indians and between the tribes themselves,” he explained. “If ownership could be established then we, the army, could serve as keepers of the peace and defenders of all the people.”

He took Annie’s hand. “I believe that it’s men like us on the inside of the military, who have a closer connection to the Indians, who will call them our brothers, who can help find common ground of understanding. We can help to change whatever misconceptions exist.”

Katniss was dubious of the potential success of this, though she was grateful to her future brother-in-law for his idealistic dedication. To find that kind of consensus between so many who distrusted each other, let alone correct the distortions and prejudice, was a herculean challenge.

Gale, concerned about the awkwardness between them, took Katniss aside as he was leaving and tried to smooth things over.

“Look, I regret that this always comes up with us. It’s not that I want harm to come to your brothers, or anyone. Maybe Finnick is right. That there can be some kind of negotiated peace treaty.”

Katniss nodded. She hated for there to be strain between them. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on where the greater fault lies,” she answered.

Gale gave one of his charming smiles. “Yes, there’s far more pleasant ways to occupy ourselves. Finnick and Annie’s wedding for one.” He grew serious again and turned from the door. “But you have to keep in mind, Katniss. No matter how we feel about it, this is the duty I signed up for. If it comes down to it, my side has been chosen.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Katniss pursed her lips. “And what if I’m on the other side? Will you see me as the enemy?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. You aren’t anything like any of them.”

She found herself without words to respond, a chill running through her. Gale gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and departed.

That night before she undressed for bed, Katniss regarded herself in her mirror. Who was this person staring back? And what did everyone else see? When had the fancy dresses become less restrictive, and the dainty shoes less pinching? When had she stopped pining for the days that she could wear her hair in the simple two braids of her childhood? Where was the girl with the bow? She struggled to find a trace of her.

Katniss had willingly embraced her new life in St. Louis. If it was what she wanted, then why was she in such a bad mood?

There was the nagging guilt at the root of her unease. The loneliness that had prompted her letter to Peeta at the beginning of the summer had been numbed by the companionable arrangement that had emerged between her and Gale. Yes, they had their disagreements, but there was a security in familiarity.

She was forced to acknowledge that Gale was right in a way. Hadn’t she come here to escape the burden of bigotry, to prove to the world, and perhaps to herself, that she wasn’t the primitive that they expected? She had distanced herself from that illiterate girl who rode ponies across the prairies and hunted with her bow, all in the pursuit of acceptance. But what had she sacrificed in the process?

“It’s what you wanted,” she repeated to herself. But she couldn’t say for certain that she believed it anymore.

An image of the wildflowers slipped into her thoughts. If her days and evenings spent in Gale’s company were pleasurable in their genteel way, the nights still belonged to the private place reserved in her heart for Peeta. It appeared in her dreams, a soothing, sensual presence that had been her faithful nightly companion when the worries of the day weighed most heavily. She relived those heady days up in the mountains, and the intense connection that had germinated there.

And she remembered the way Peeta had encouraged her to come to St. Louis. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t be here, having her world open up before her in ways she hadn’t thought possible a few months ago. It flooded her heart with a mix of desire and gratitude, and there were moments when she was almost brave enough to imagine returning to his arms. But she was forced to remind herself that she wasn’t supposed to want that anymore, since she knew, as precious as it was, it belonged to one moment of time. Like the flowers that had long disappeared, it was only meant to be treasured for their memory.

Because, back home there was no escaping from what was real, no contrived image to hide behind. The truth of all the old fears colored her longing. Today’s conversations had served as a reminder of just how much uncertainty the future held, not just for her but for her children, if she allowed herself to go down that path. Here in St. Louis, the difficulty of prejudice and romantic entanglements was something she had managed to evade. But it still left her with the sensation that she was two people inhabiting the same body.

She undressed and crawled into bed, taking the dilemma of her heart with her. She asked herself if she was happy, but wasn’t sure of the answer. It was a long time until her year was up, she reassured herself. For now there was her schooling and her sister’s wedding that demanded her attention, so she buried all other thoughts of war, conflict and relationships, resolving to deal with them another day.

By the beginning of September, Katniss noticed by the fit of her clothes that she was beginning to lose weight. It became impossible to hide, rousing the concern of her family. Laughing Bird was the first to bring it up.

“It’s nothing,” Katniss assured her mother. “It’s just the pressure from keeping up with my schooling and helping Annie prepare for the wedding next week. After that, it’ll be better, I promise.”

Katniss knew Laughing Bird didn’t believe it, but thankfully she didn’t press. She felt bad for freezing her mother out, but Katniss didn’t want to discuss something she’d rather avoid. And she wasn’t certain she was ready to hear what Laughing Bird might have to say on the matter.

A few days before the wedding, Annie invited Katniss to join her in a walk through their gardens to help decide which of her mother’s flowers to select for her bouquet. She complied, but as Annie pointed at the bronzing hydrangeas, the multicolored dahlias and elegant roses, her mind wandered.

When her question about flowers went unanswered, Annie forced Katniss to look her in the eye. There was concern written on her face when she begged her younger sister to tell her what was wrong.

“It’s nothing, Annie. I haven’t been able to sleep very well the past few days.” She forced a smile, “I just want everything to be perfect for you and Finnick on Saturday.”

But Annie wasn’t buying it. “Is something wrong between you and Gale? I know there’s been some tension, but the last couple of weeks, things have seemed to be better.”

Katniss shook her head. She and Gale had managed to return to their cordial friendship by avoiding troublesome topics. He hinted at romantic intentions, but thankfully didn’t push the issue when she failed to respond.

“Katniss, I know you are very private, but I wish that you trusted me enough to confide in me. Or your mother. It isn’t healthy to keep whatever it is that’s bothering you all bottled up. And if it truly is due to my wedding, please let me know.” When Katniss hung her head and bit her lip, she persisted. “Is it because Finnick and Gale are heading off to Texas soon? Because, believe me, it keeps me awake at night worrying about them staying safe.”

Katniss glanced up at her sister for a moment and again gave her head a small shake. “Does this have something to do with this friend back home that you never talk about?” Annie asked. “The partner in your family’s trading post?”

At the mention of Peeta, Katniss brought her hands to her face, and Annie pulled her into a hug. Stroking her back, she whispered, “What is it Katniss? Did he reject you? Is that why you are here in St. Louis, with Gale?”

Katniss pulled away from her sister’s embrace, her face flushed with emotion. “No. It’s the opposite. Peeta… he loves me. And he’s the one who encouraged me to come here. It’s me, Annie. I’m scared…” Her throat constricted and all the pent up stress of the previous weeks bubbled to the surface.

Taking her hand, Annie led them both to a bench at the center of the garden. They sat down and Katniss finally shared the story of how Peeta had come into her life, and described the details of their time up in the mountains. When Annie looked perplexed, she explained what it was like back at Fort John, how it was for her, her mother, their brothers, how the thought of bringing children into such a world terrified her. Annie listened without judgment.

“No matter what I do, I feel like I’m misleading them, using them both somehow. Especially when I can’t give them what they want. I don’t even know what I want,” Katniss sobbed.

Annie didn’t offer any trite answers, or try to claim that everything would be okay, which was a relief for Katniss. Instead she wrapped her arms around her little sister and cried with her, for her pain. It helped. When they were cried out, Annie took her handkerchief and wiped their eyes.

Katniss managed a smile and said, “I’ll figure it out somehow, Annie. Just knowing you, and our mothers are here for me, it makes it easier. Let’s go choose those flowers. We have a wedding to plan.”

The day of the wedding was as perfect as it could be. But as lovely as the sun shone in the cloudless blue sky, nothing could compare to the brilliance of the bride and groom. After the ceremony and the meal, as the guests toasted the couple and later danced in celebration, Katniss regarded Annie and Finnick across the room. How happy they were. How Finnick never left her sister’s side, protective and adoring. Her prohibition against marriage seemed impossibly grim when in the presence of such devotion.

Katniss couldn’t help thinking about how close she’d come to crossing that line with Peeta. She puzzled over what instinct had driven her to do what she did, against everything she claimed she feared. Seeing such joy in the bride and groom dancing before her made Katniss realize how much she craved that closeness. How much she didn’t like to be alone.

But this was a day for celebration and happy thoughts, so when Gale approached with a grin and an invitation to dance, she happily threw herself into the spirit of the party. As the evening went on, her thoughts of loneliness ebbed and were replaced by genuine frivolity.

“I need to stop and catch my breath!” she laughed at the end of a song, and she excused herself to go out on the terrace, seeking the cool evening air. Gale joined her moments later, two more glasses of champagne in hand, one of which she downed in an unladylike manner. She claimed it was due to her thirst when Gale teased her about it.

Katniss giggled, feeling a little giddy, when all of a sudden Gale leaned in and kissed her. Startled, she pulled away, confused and unsteady from the alcohol in her blood, and reached out for the railing for balance.

Gale looked quizzical. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised,” he laughed. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the room, Katniss, next to the bride of course, and we’ve been friends a long time. We’re so good together, don’t you see? Ever since you came here, seeing you like this… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His words had an effect on Katniss that the cool night air had failed to provide.

“So now I’m acceptable? Dress me up and make me presentable, and now you have time for me that way?”

“Katniss, what do you want? Should I apologize because I’m a blind idiot who took too long to discover just how wonderful you are? Okay, I’m a dolt. I should have noticed before, but I’m here now. And in my defense, how was I to know that my hunting partner would even want to fit into my world here?”

“Maybe you should have asked.” But even as she said it, an image of a mountain meadow flashed in her head, leaving her conflicted and guilty.

Gale looked frustrated, and Katniss stood hugging herself, shivering as the night air brushed against her skin.

Gale misread her reaction. “Katniss, I’m nothing but a gentleman, you know that. So if I was too forward, if this is too sudden, I apologize. Trust me, your virtue is perfectly safe,” he quipped.

A rush of hot blood colored her face and she looked away. “I don’t need your protection.” She hesitated, then added, “And I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”

Gale narrowed his eyes. “Katniss?” There was accusation in his voice.

Fire flared up in Katniss’s chest and she snapped back, “What? Once again I don’t measure up to your standard?”

Gale glanced back inside at the room filled with fellow officers in their finery. “You couldn’t possibly have…”

“No, none of them,” she mumbled.

“Then who?” he demanded.

His tone stirred an indignant anger inside her. “I don’t owe you any explanation,” she hissed. “You never even had the time of day for me until I came here. I was never white enough to parade on your arm until the higher society decided I was worth the attention.”

“That’s not fair,” he rebutted. “Things were different back at Fort John.”

She knew he was right. She hadn’t been any more interested in him back then, but somehow it was all coming out wrong.

“What do you want, Katniss?” he asked again, exasperated and red faced.

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I want to go home.”

Gale looked confused. “You are home,” he replied, waving his hand towards Portia’s grand house. Katniss shook her head, and walked back inside, losing herself in the crowd of guests.

When the Monday edition of the newspaper arrived, Katniss was called into the parlor before she left for school. She could tell by the concerned look on her mother’s face, and the perplexed expression on Portia’s, that something was up.

Portia spoke first. “I had an idea that we might expect something official at some point, but Laughing Bird tells me that there may be some kind of misunderstanding.” When Katniss furrowed her brow in confusion, she added, “You and Lieutenant Hawthorne, dear. Apparently the word is that we should expect an announcement about the two of you very soon.”

Katniss grabbed the newspaper in Portia’s hand. Though she struggled with reading the words, the gist of it was clear. At the end of the gushing report describing Annie and Finnick’s wedding was the speculation about her and Gale. A reporter invited to the reception had written the gossip piece after witnessing the two of them blissfully dancing the night away. Perhaps they’d even spied that kiss.

She shook her head in shock. “It isn’t true. Gale and I… it isn’t like that with us.”

Portia sighed. “This kind of speculation is to be expected when two such handsome people are seen together, and you and Gale have been rather inseparable all summer.”

Katniss slumped into a chair. “This is my fault, Portia. I didn’t think…”

“It’s been a big adjustment for you, coming here, Katniss. No one blames you, and you shouldn’t either,” Laughing Bird said.

“Well, leave it in my hands, “ Portia stated. “I will speak to my friend at the newspaper and we will straighten it all out.” She paused. “I understand there is a matter of someone else.”

Katniss felt a flush of resentment at Annie for betraying her confidence, but Laughing Bird reached out her hand to touch her arm. “I explained a little to Portia. I didn’t mean to upset you, but she is on your side, Katniss, and she can help sort things out.”

Surprisingly, Katniss felt a wave of relief that it was out in the open.

“By the time Annie and Finnick return from their honeymoon, this will all be set right,” Portia reassured her.

When Katniss returned home from school that afternoon, she wasn’t surprised to hear that Gale had come calling. The two of them walked out to the garden and sat on the same bench on which she had first confessed her secret to Annie. It felt appropriate somehow. She told him about Peeta, though she kept her description vague. Thankfully, he didn’t ask for more details.

“I don’t like how everything has been with us, Katniss,” Gale began. “But I stand by what I said. I do love you. And I would like very much for you to at least consider the idea of marrying me. I don’t know how serious things are with this other fellow. I mean, you’re here with me, not there with him.”

“I came for an education,” Katniss reminded him.

Gale sighed. “I wish I’d known there was someone else sooner, but regardless, here we both are. Before Portia goes and retracts this story, will you at least agree to consider it?”

“Gale, I told you back at Fort John, I don’t want to get married. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I felt so alone when I first came to St. Louis, and it was good to have you as a friend again.”

“What is it with you and marriage, Katniss?” he asked, and the sincerity of his tone encouraged Katniss to share with him her concerns. Despite their differences, some of Gale’s predictions on the worrisome future meshed with her own.

“I don’t want to be something you need to apologize for,” she added when she was done.

Gale got up and walked over to the edge of the garden. When he returned he took her hand.

“Katniss, don’t you see? You don’t have to worry about any of that with me. Look how well you fit in here. That can be your life as my wife. Our children don’t have to grow up with the prejudice you describe.”

“Everyone knows that I am Indian,” she replied.

“True, but married to me… You’d be married to a respected officer in the army. When I return from Texas, I’ll be up for promotion to Captain, and that will give you all the protection you need. They will see you as one of us.”

Katniss pulled her hand away as if she’d been stung. Sensing that he’d offended her, Gale persisted. “What will you do when the year is up? Will you be content to go back to the trading post? Back to where you are in the middle of conflict? I don’t know what this other man managed to do to earn your attention when I didn’t. But if you return, and if you take back this ban-on-marriage plan of yours, there’s no way he can offer you the cover that I can. What’s more, you may not be doing him any favors, either.”

Katniss looked up at him with concern. How could her love hurt Peeta?

“You’ve said it yourself, Katniss. If things escalate between us and the Indians, sides will have to be chosen, and he, along with the children you wish to protect, will be caught in the middle of it.”

They sat in silence for awhile, and then Gale rose to his feet. “You know how I feel. Please at least consider my proposal, Katniss. Give it a week, before Portia requests a retraction of the claim in that article.”

She stood and he kissed her chastely on the cheek and left her standing in the garden, troubled by the many things she had to contemplate.

The newlyweds came home at the end of the week, and Annie immediately took Katniss aside. “I heard about that article. Mother says you haven’t asked to have it corrected. Does this mean you are considering Gale’s offer?”

Katniss sat on her bed and shook her head. “I don’t know what to do, Annie.”

“What is it?” she asked and came over and sat beside her sister. Taking her hand in her own, she added, “You two meeting up again seemed like fate. I guess we all just took that for granted. But are you in love with him?”

“I don’t know,” she answered.

“Well, then that’s your answer,” she laughed. “Oh Katniss, I’m not saying you don’t care about Gale. Or that you don’t love him on some level. But being _in love_ isn’t the same thing. Trust me.”

“I know, Annie.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “And seeing you and Finnick together, it makes me remember.”

Annie asked if it was because of Peeta.

“I think if I let myself, I could imagine being with him for the rest of my life,” Katniss confessed.

“Well then, what’s the problem? If Peeta holds your heart, then stop this thing with Gale.”

“It’s complicated, Annie. Going back there, I can’t hide.” She described her conversation with Gale. “It would be so much simpler with Gale. And I know he cares for me. When I think of Peeta, it just scares me.”

“Katniss, you are strong and brave. Don’t make this a coward’s choice.”

Katniss wasn’t convinced on how brave she was, but taking Annie’s words to heart, she knew what she needed to do where Gale was concerned.

When he came to Portia’s to learn her answer, Gale wasn’t surprised. “I knew the moment I found out that there was someone else. He won you over, despite everything that you do to push men away.”

In a quiet voice, Katniss answered, “This isn’t about Peeta. I still haven’t decided if I will return to the trading post, let alone marry anyone. But it isn’t fair to you to give false hope.”

“I should have asked you to come back with me when I was still in Fort John.”

“No,” she answered softly. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

They sat in awkward silence for a time, side by side on the sofa in the parlor. Then Gale nodded.

He got to his feet and turned to her. “Katniss, I won’t stop hoping that maybe when I come back from Texas, you’ll still be here waiting, and maybe you’ll have changed your mind. But regardless, I will still consider you my friend.”

Katniss rose and held out her hand. “Of course you’re my friend.” She narrowed her eyes at him, “Even if we don’t see eye to eye on things.”

Gale gave a soft chuckle and kissed her hand. And then he left.

A few months later, when their regiment was due to depart for Texas, they had a farewell party for Finnick and Gale. Katniss was relieved to part with her old hunting partner on good terms, but saying goodbye was nothing but painful for Annie and Finnick. The reality of war and the danger that lay ahead was impossible to ignore. The four women who remained behind took comfort in each other’s support and soon the fall turned into winter.

Katniss refocused her attention on her schooling and before she knew it, the first buds of spring appeared. Portia’s lilacs and magnolias bloomed along with a variety of gorgeous tulips, daffodils and hyacinths. She knew it was only a short time until Haymitch returned and she would have to make a choice.

One evening she sought the council of her companions. The merits of marriage came up with all three of them. Annie, as expected, waxed poetic on Finnick’s love. Portia reminisced about her unconventional marriage to Everdeen.

“He was really a terrible husband. But by God, he was a fun little bastard!” she joked, which caused Annie and Katniss to giggle with embarrassment, and Laughing Bird to chuckle. When the laughter abated, Portia continued, “I could never depend on him, always disappearing for years, then showing up again out of the blue. But I have no regrets. I couldn’t help loving him despite it all.”

Laughing Bird nodded in agreement. “Yes, he was a good man in his way. And I have loved Haymitch for so long, I can't imagine life without him in it.”

Portia reclined in her armchair and took a sip of tea. “I think, Katniss, what you need to remember, is that no one else can tell you what is best. If I’d let others decide for me, I would not have known your father, or had my beautiful daughter.” She gazed with love at Annie. “It isn’t about what is logical. It is about what your heart tells you it needs.”

Katniss retired to her room, but before going to bed, she took out the sagebrush for the first time in months, breathed in its scent and visualized Peeta and the trading post. She imagined riding up and surprising him, how good it would feel to be enveloped in those arms, having his lips on her neck, her fingers in his shaggy blond waves. How much she had missed all of it.

But what she wanted and what she needed were forever at odds. Weren’t they? Could she go back? What if Portia was right, and logic had nothing to do with it. Even so, the future loomed like dark thunderhead clouds over the prairies.

The next morning, she woke early after a fitful night’s sleep. She wandered out into the yard, craving the connection to nature, even in the orderly form it took in Portia’s garden. She stopped to admire each precisely-planted and nurtured bloom and blossom.

And then her eye happened to spot an interloper, its wild, golden head defiantly poking up among its refined companions. Stooping down to pluck it, she couldn’t help grin at the dandelion. And then she quirked her brow at the kinship she felt with it. They were both imposters here, two weeds among their tame cousins. And she was reminded of the wildflowers, growing without assistance, free and unencumbered by style and human intention.

“To be that bold,” she praised them, and as soon as the words left her mouth, she remembered Delly and what she had said the day she died. How being bold had made her brave. And then Annie’s advice about cowardice echoed in her mind.

Just as the dandelion and the wildflowers grew with their own bold purpose, Katniss remembered the girl with the deerskin dress and moccasins adorned in flowers. She was the girl who rode ponies over the prairie and hunted with a bow. The girl who wore her hair in two simple braids. The girl who loved a boy who was willing to throw his lot in with her entirely. With the real her. And she finally knew what she wanted and needed to do.

Katniss took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m coming home, Peeta,” she said to the dandelion.

 

**NOTE: I have done my best to provide accurate Arapaho words, such as the translation for 'mother' in this chapter.**

**NOTE: Based on my research of this period, fear of violent attack by Indians was largely based on paranoia. According to Michener: “In the middle years of the nineteenth century more than 350,000 emigrants moved along the Platte River from the Missouri to the Pacific, and the bulk passed through Indian lands without encountering difficulty. Something less than one-tenth of one percent of the travelers were slain by Indians—fewer than three hundred—whereas many times that number were killed by their own rifles, or the rifles of friends fired accidentally, or the gunplay of criminals who had joined the procession.**

**There have been few mass migrations in history so peaceful, and no previous instance in which people of one race passed through lands held by another with such trivial inconvenience. For this good record the Indian was mostly responsible, for it was his willingness to abide the white man that allowed the two groups to coexist in such harmony.” Centennial, Ch.7.**


	10. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta receives an unexpected surprise when Haymitch and Laughing Bird return from St. Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wildflower wouldn’t be the same without the contributions of the following people (on tumblr): otrascosasseries and loving-mellark for their gorgeous banners, finduilasnumenesse, titania522 and papofglencoe for their help in pre-reading and editing this story, and bethylark for her assistance with Native American culture and history. Thank you!

**PART 6 - The Trading Post (Summer, 1846 - December, 1849)**

**Chapter 10 - Home**

By Peeta’s estimation, he’d be on his own until sometime in early July. Possibly a little longer depending on how much time Haymitch lingered in St. Louis. Maybe he’d want to spend time with his daughter before saying goodbye for who knew how long.

A part of Peeta dreaded the arrival of the wagons from Missouri. It wasn’t that he didn’t miss Haymitch or Laughing Bird, it would be good to have them both home. But their return meant that he could no longer fool himself into believing that Katniss would be coming back. Because, as much as he berated himself for such thoughts, he couldn’t help indulge in that small, fragile hope.

The day that Haymitch left, Peeta had bundled up the tanned elk skin and returned it to the Abernathys’ cabin. Only to go retrieve it a few nights later. He ran his hand over its velvety surface and chastised himself for clinging to the memories from a year ago.

He tortured himself, replaying everything he had done, trying to think of a way that he could have changed the course of things, but after a time, he realized Haymitch was right. He had done everything he could, and if he had tricked Katniss into staying for his own selfish needs, he would have regretted it.

Peeta figured that even if Katniss had refused to marry, but still agreed to come home, he could be content. He would find a small comfort in at least being her friend. But the news clipping had changed everything. There was no denying how much it hurt that her fears of marriage had been answered by someone else. He wondered if he’d ever see her again.

People came and went from the trading post, and Peeta found his days were thankfully occupied. Word continued to spread of Mellark’s Farm, and he had to shake his head at the name and notoriety. But it served as a steady reminder that he had found his place here. Which made him remember how the Abernathys had embraced him. Which always brought his thoughts back to Katniss and the wildflowers. It was an inescapable loop.

Perhaps life hadn’t turned out the way he hoped, but Peeta knew he should be grateful for everything Katniss had done. He meditated on the fact that without her, he would have died. His epiphany in the mountains regarding that mercy was not lost on him.

So he kept the elk skin close, seeking to hold onto the beauty of their time together and trying to let go of the sorrow.

Peeta was in the habit of climbing up onto the lookout platform that ran along the eastern stockade wall when evening fell, looking for signs of any late stragglers before closing the gate. But by the end of June, with the date of his partner’s return looming, he couldn’t bear to do it anymore. So when evening rolled around, he would step outside the walls, take a quick look around and seal himself in for the night.

Late one afternoon in the first week of July, he decided to leave the post and go searching for the wild turnips that were plentiful in the area. Recent Arapaho guests had shown him how they used the nutritious tuber; roasted like a potato, or dried and pounded into a fine, starchy flour. They used the flour as a thickener for their soups and stews, and he’d been impressed by a type of pudding mixed with berries that they made from it. He was curious how he might use the flour in his baking.

Peeta had to admit that wild turnips also reminded him of Katniss’s porcupine story and the girl digging her escape so that she could be with the ones she really loved.

He would collect a bunch of the turnips, he told himself, roast a couple of them tonight, and dry the rest so that he could experiment with the flour. His cabin was filled with the pleasing scent of cinnamon bread dough that he’d prepared and set aside to rise. He planned to bake it as part of his supper that night.

Peeta set out on foot with a bag slung over his shoulder and a small shovel balanced across the straps. It had been quiet at the post for several days, with no visitors, so he found himself chatting with various birds and rodents as he walked through the grass. Some popped their heads up and regarded him with wary curiosity. He spoke to them in friendly tones, and when they didn’t flee, it made him happy.

After he’d dug up close to a dozen wild turnip roots, he stood up to stretch his back and wipe his brow. The day was still hot even though the sun was sinking behind the mountains. The sky was streaked with thin, diaphanous clouds that were beginning to take on brilliant shades. It caused Peeta to smile, since there was nothing that could compare to the color of a prairie sunset.

That’s when he saw it, and his heart started to quicken in his chest.

He climbed a small rise to gain a better vantage and, sure enough, he saw the rising plume of dust on the eastern horizon. He remained fixed in his place as it inched closer, following the course of the South Platte River. It could just be riders, maybe a group of braves, or even a trapper and his pack mules heading his way. But soon the size of the rising dust cloud revealed that it was a couple of wagons, and it could only mean one thing.

With an unpleasant mix of excitement and anxiety, he debated whether he should walk out to meet them or return to the post. Heading back to the post would delay the inevitable for a little longer. And if he waited for them there, he’d be able to immediately throw himself into unloading the wagons to hide what he expected would be his crushing disappointment.

In the end, he decided that was pointless, and he scolded himself for thinking in such a cowardly fashion. It was time to greet Haymitch and Laughing Bird like a good partner should. So he compromised and sat on the ground, waiting for the wagons to come to him. When they came close enough, he stood, raised his hand to wave in welcome, and tried to find a smile.

Then he furrowed his brow in confusion. And then his jaw dropped in stunned disbelief. He recognized the russet-color of her dress from when she had left over a year ago, and the two long, black braids hanging down over her shoulders. She was standing up in the lead wagon and waving back to him. He couldn’t make it out, because a breeze came up and muffled the sound, but she was calling out something.

 _Move_ , he ordered his paralyzed limbs. He grabbed his bag of turnips, secured the shovel across the top and walked down the slope in the direction of the wagons. The air became still and that’s when he heard it. It was like a song. No, more like a sweet symphony in his ears.

“Peeta! I’m home!” Katniss called out and, suddenly impatient, she leapt from the slowly plodding wagon and ran towards him, laughing.

But Peeta was overcome with emotion, and bringing his hand to his mouth, he choked back tears unable to answer her. And yet, he forced himself to keep walking, one incredulous step at a time until the reality finally began to seep into his brain. And then he quickened his pace to intercept her. By the time she reached him, he was grinning widely with amazement. When she threw her arms around his neck, he was overcome with pure elation.

“You came home,” he gasped between her kisses. She laughed and nodded.

Seeing his emotion, Katniss whispered words of comfort, until Peeta finally whispered, “I thought… I read…”

She took his face in her hands and nodded, “I know, Haymitch told me…” But he interrupted her with a kiss, still trying to convince his skeptical mind that she had come back to him.

“I climbed down the rope,” she said with a sidewise smile, and he started to laugh and wrapped her once again tightly in his arms. Because he understood. She’d come home to the place where she belonged. To what she loved most. To him.

The wagons pulled alongside of them and Haymitch leaned down and grumbled, “What about my welcome?” He pouted about how he deserved a ‘thank you’ for delivering such valuable cargo.

Peeta sprung up into the wagon and gave his partner’s hand a vigorous shake, and barely restrained himself from hugging the man. Laughing Bird smiled warmly and reached over to give Peeta’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Well enough of this maudlin display,” Haymitch grunted, “We’ve got work to do before nightfall.”

Peeta, a grin plastered over his face, jumped back down to the ground. Hand-in-hand, he and Katniss followed alongside the wagon. Peeta managed to ask them all about their trip west and even ventured to inquire about how Katniss’s year had gone. She described Portia and Annie and her husband Finnick. She talked about her schooling and St. Louis. He kept asking questions, craving to hear the sound of her voice.

When the two wagons entered the gate in the stockade walls, Katniss pulled Peeta to a stop and made him turn to face her.

“I’ve dreamed about this day,” she said. “I kept thinking it wasn’t possible, but I couldn’t let go.” She hesitated. There were tiny lines between her brows, her expression contrite. “I’m sorry about what you read…”

He shook his head, “None of it matters, Katniss. Whatever happened in St. Louis, I don’t care…”

But she grabbed his arms, her eyes wide. “Nothing happened. I didn’t want any of that. I just needed you.“

He shook his head in disbelief. “Pinch me and remind me you’re really here to stay.”

She gave a playful smirk, pinched his bicep and leaned in to kiss him again. In his ear, she whispered, “I’m here to stay. Always.”

With the help of the hired driver of the second wagon, they unloaded the trading goods and supplies. Included were two heavy cooking stoves, one for each cabin. When they were done, they all went inside the Abernathys’ home for a supper prepared by Katniss and her mother. It was well after dark by the time they polished off the cinnamon bread that Peeta baked in his cabin for their dessert. The hired wagon driver was paid for his service, and he said goodnight and went to bunk down in the back of his wagon, planning to leave the next morning.

The remaining four sat together around the table, and Haymitch attempted to make conversation. He asked Peeta how things had gone in his absence. He commented on the war in Texas with Mexico, described the filing of their land claims and complained about the prices of goods, until it was clear nobody was paying any attention. Laughing Bird, barely suppressing a smile, nudged her husband and gave him a knowing look.

“Okay, okay, it’s been a long day,” Haymitch said. “We should turn in and tomorrow we can finish unpacking everything.”

Katniss walked Peeta into the front of the store and gave him a quick kiss and apologized that she needed to help her mother clean up. He was a bit disappointed by the brief peck she gave him, but said goodnight and walked across the yard to his cabin. Katniss was home, and that was all that really mattered.

He splashed some water over his face and undressed, but as soon as he climbed into bed, he knew there would be no sleep for him that night. He lay staring at the ceiling, still grinning, and marveling at how everything had changed in just a few hours. His heart felt like a brook bubbling over its banks, unable to be contained.

He’d been lying there for no more than an hour when he heard the creak of the latch being raised and the door open. In the faint moonlight, he recognized Katniss as she entered and closed the door behind her. In the darkness he heard the soft rustling of fabric as the dress she was wearing dropped to the floor and she slipped into bed beside him.

He tried to find a way to put his jumbled emotions into words, but she silenced him, placing her fingers on his lips.

“Kiss me,” she whispered. “It’s all I’ve thought about since…” She never finished the sentence.

This wasn’t the astonished and enthusiastic kisses on the prairie from earlier in the day. These were ravenous and unrestrained, savoring and rediscovering the desire that had ignited them over a year ago. They reaffirmed their love in breathless whispers, until the many months of pent up longing broke like a dam.

Katniss crawled over, straddling him, and then she was everywhere, all around him. There was a desperate need in their coupling as they sought to remove all distance. As if they might find a way inside each other’s skin, all the while knowing it still wouldn’t be close enough.

After, as they lay panting for breath, they couldn’t help laugh for the pure joy it brought them. They made love through the night, over and over as the passion stirred anew, so that when they finally succumbed to exhaustion, the sun was just appearing on the horizon.

Peeta awoke sometime later with Katniss lying across him, sound asleep. He couldn’t repress a grin; it wasn’t a dream, after all. He opened an eye just enough to see that bright sunshine was creeping through the gaps in the door and around the shutters of his window. His limbs felt like lead and his mouth was parched. He twisted his head to look at Katniss, her mouth hanging open and softly snuffling in her sleep against his chest. The air was thick with the scent of wood smoke and cinnamon still lingering from the previous evening, and of sex and sweet Katniss. And he sighed in blissful contentment.

He could hear Haymitch moving around outside. With just a tinge of guilt for sleeping so late and leaving his partner to do the work, Peeta gently extricated himself from Katniss’s tangled limbs, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and pulled on his clothes.

When he stepped out into the sunlight, he was startled that it wasn’t late morning, but already midday. The hired driver and his wagon had long departed.

Haymitch stopped and regarded him with an amused glint in his eye. “Good to see you up and around. Much longer and I was worried I’d have to come in there to check for pulses,” he grumbled, but he gave a snort and grinned. “That smile on your forlorn face is a welcome change.”

Peeta flushed, then reached down to pick up a crate and hauled it into the store. When he returned, he ran a hand through his mussed hair and swallowed before speaking. “Um, Haymitch, you know how much I want to marry your daughter.”

Haymitch huffed, “I’d say she shares the sentiment. I think that was made clear last night…” He stopped and with less snark added, “Things work differently out here, Peeta. We don’t have any preachers or such. You say you’re married, then you’re married, by my reckoning.”

“I want Katniss to have a paper, just like Delly did.”

He was surprised by Katniss’s hands sliding around his waist to hug him from behind. “I don’t need a paper, Peeta.”

But Peeta wasn’t happy with that. He remembered Katniss telling him about the white men and women like her mother who were seen as secondary wives, some of them even abandoned after a time, and he shook his head. Katniss deserved more than that.

He led her aside to speak privately, taking her hands in his own, needing to explain.  
“I remember how you said that Portia was your father’s proper wife back east. I want it to be clear that you are a real wife to me. That there is never any doubt.”

“I have no doubts.” She kissed him.

“I know, but it’s important to me. That you have proof. And a wedding, too,” he added. “And then no one can ever say that you are anything less. Please let me do this for you.”

She placed a hand on the side of his face and, with a grin, said, “Okay. Let’s have a wedding.”

Once the four of them gathered for dinner, Peeta explained how after writing out the words that declared their intentions, all they needed was two people to witness. It seemed a reasonable thing to the Abernathys, and when the matter of who should serve as witnesses came up, Katniss said she would like her brothers to do it. Peeta agreed, thinking of his friendship with Matt and how much he wanted to find a way to get closer to Frank.

“Well, if we’re gonna have an actual wedding, we might as well get on with it,” Haymitch announced.

He said that he’d head up to Fort John and see if there was any word on where the Everdeen brothers might be found. Peeta offered to go, but Haymitch winked and said that after more than a year apart, Katniss would be happier if he went instead. Katniss grew pensive and said she wished that Portia, Annie and Finnick could be there, too.

Haymitch wasn’t gone more than a few minutes when Laughing Bird asked Peeta about the elk skin that he and Katniss had brought back with them from the mountains. Puzzled, but all too happy to relinquish it now that Katniss was home, Peeta went back to his cabin and got it for her.

When Katniss asked her what she was planning to do with it, Laughing Bird said it was a wedding gift. Her mother built a fire out in the yard, and smoked the hide until it was a deep golden shade. The process insured that it would remain waterproof and soft. Then she devoted all of her free time to creating what would become their wedding garments. The elk skin was for Peeta, and she selected three deerskins from their store’s inventory for Katniss’s dress. These had only been lightly smoked, retaining their pearly-white color. After she checked the fit for both of them, she kept the final embellishments a secret, working late into the evenings.

Just over two weeks later, Haymitch returned with Frank and Matt, and several of their Cheyenne and Arapaho friends. The day of the wedding, the brothers and their friends went hunting just after dawn and came back a few hours later with several game birds.

Meanwhile, Peeta prepared a cake and decorated it with berries that were in season. With the finishing touches complete, he stood back and nodded with satisfaction at the results. Not just the cake, but that the wedding had brought Katniss’s family together.

That afternoon, Katniss went to her parents’ home to get ready with Laughing Bird’s help, and Peeta went to clean up in his cabin. He wasn’t surprised to see, lying on his bed, the elaborately decorated elk skin shirt. His future mother-in-law had created a top in the fashion of her culture, fringed and displaying beautiful bead work across the yoke and shoulders.

He stripped out of his last-remaining, white, Lancaster shirt, now grown threadbare. He said farewell to the plain, somber dress of his past and decided that from now on he would wear the colorful calico shirts that Haymitch always wore. However, the first day of his new life would be welcomed with the elk skin in his hands. He slipped the top over his head and ran his hand over the leather. It was soft and velvety against his skin, and everything about it reminded him of Katniss. He picked up his small mirror and ran his hand over his face, appraising his beard, and came to another decision.

When he came to collect Katniss, he was awed by his bride in her wedding dress. In a word, she was radiant. Her gown was more elaborate than Katniss’s other Arapaho dress. In addition to the generous fringe and bead work, there were silver embellishments and shells brought back from Missouri for trading, incorporated into the design. Katniss’s hair was loose except for two thin braids, woven with strands of leather and beads, framing her face. More silver and shell jewelry hung from her ears. The shade of the deerskin and the jewelry set off the luminous color of her grey eyes. Though the leather of his shirt was a honey-gold, the bead work motif was complementary on both of their attire. Wildflowers.

Peeta was about to express his appreciation for his bride’s beauty, when he was met with whoops from the men, and squeals of delight from the women. Katniss ran her hands with amazement over his square jawline. It was the first time in Peeta’s adult life that he had appeared clean-shaven. He intended to begin his life as a married man free of the rigid conventions of his past and fully embrace this new connection to his wife and her people.

Haymitch groused that he looked far too young to carry the name of their trading post.

Matt slapped him on the back and Frank chortled, “You look like one of us now!”

Peeta grinned, but it was Katniss’s caresses and kisses, her cooing over his smooth skin, and the way she so uncharacteristically giggled, that brought greatest pleasure to his heart.

Peeta and Katniss recited the words of their declaration, written out on their marriage document. When it came time for her brothers to witness the document, they signed with an ‘X’ which Peeta could see saddened Katniss. He knew she looked at her handsome older brothers with regret that life had not provided them with the chances she had been given. That circumstances hadn’t been in their favor.

But today they were genuinely happy for their sister. Peeta saw Frank take his little sister aside and with a sly glance in Peeta’s direction, gave her a kiss on the cheek. When he asked Katniss what her brother had said, she told him that Frank thought she’d made a good choice. Frank’s approval touched Peeta, and he promised his brothers-in-law that he would do whatever he could to make their sister happy.

Their informal ceremony complete, they feasted on the roasted birds and Peeta’s wedding cake. Peeta was pleased to see Haymitch and his stepsons reminiscing about the days they, their mother, and Everdeen had spent traveling across the land. They had set aside their differences, at least for today. It was also an emotional moment for Laughing Bird to witness their polite exchange.

As the evening descended, Peeta told Katniss that he’d laid the claim in the mountains for her.

“It’s yours,” he whispered in her ear. “So that it’ll always be there for you whenever it blooms again.” Katniss rested her head on his shoulder and ran a finger over some blue-bead flowers on his shirt. “I wish I could have gotten you some real blue columbines,” he said. “I remember how much you liked them.”

She leaned back and gazed at him dreamily, “I have you to remind me.”

 

The next few years following Peeta and Katniss’s wedding were happy ones for the Abernathys and Mellarks. Their store grew in popularity, Haymitch helped expand Peeta and Katniss’s cabin to include two small bedrooms at the back, and relationships between Frank and Matt and their stepfather remained cordial. They heard some stories about the war with Mexico and a few accounts of conflict between white settlers and Indians in the Oregon Territory, but their life was peaceful in the small pocket of the world they called home.

Peeta was especially pleased with the new wood stoves which allowed him to bake with greater precision, and Katniss had never been more at ease with her life. But the first major hurdle of their marriage, in September of 1847, threatened to shake her confidence.

After a particularly busy week helping customers, Peeta and Haymitch were going over their books and discussing inventory. Katniss told them that she needed to get away from the post for awhile. She hadn’t been herself for the past week, so Peeta encouraged her to go hunting and enjoy the day. But a couple of hours later, when Laughing Bird held up her daughter’s bow case, Peeta chastised himself for being too preoccupied to realize that something was bothering his wife.

His first instinct was to head upriver to a spot he knew she enjoyed. The trees were dense and offered shade from the sun, and there were rocks on which to perch and watch the relaxing flow of the river this time of year. Within minutes he saw her, as expected, sitting on a boulder, hugging her knees. He’d seen Katniss this way before, the night before they returned from the mountains, so he knew there was something serious on her mind.

When he sat down and put his arm around her, she started to cry. A pain gripped his chest and he pulled her into an embrace.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly afraid.

Katniss was shaking, and she remained mute in his arms. It was only when he asked her, his voice infused with fear, “Please Katniss, what is it?” that she finally answered.

“I’m…” she hiccuped, then started again. “I’m pregnant,” she whimpered.

Peeta knew how the thought of having children was terrifying for her. It had been simple up until now with just the two of them to think about, but, for Katniss especially, a child changed everything.

He spoke in soothing tones. “Katniss, look at how good things are for all of us.” Katniss admitted to him that life at their trading post was easier than it had been at Fort John.

“It’s going to be okay,” Peeta said firmly, trying hard to restrain his exuberance at the realization that he was going to be father. “Do you know why?” She sniffed and looked at him. “Because this baby will have us, two grandparents, even a couple of uncles. That’s a lot of love and protection for one child.”

When she gave another hiccup and a small nod, he added, “And you know what else? You’re going to be the most amazing mother, and that, more than anything else, will make the difference.”

That night, when everyone celebrated the news, Katniss was calmer, but as they lay in bed, Peeta could tell she was still distressed. Even though he and her parents had reassured her all day, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He knew that all the comforting words had been spoken, so instead, he pulled her restless frame against him, the way he had the night before she left for St. Louis.

He swept the hair from her shoulder and kissed its bare skin. To his relief, he felt the tension release from her clenched limbs as she molded herself to his body. When he slid his broad hand down to rest over her belly, she covered it with her own, and gave it a light squeeze. Peeta bit his lip, emotion spreading outward from his chest throughout his body as he quietly held his wife and the new life they had created in his embrace.

Just before the first snows arrived, they received a letter, dated from August, from Annie. Finnick had returned from Texas at the beginning of the summer after he’d been injured. Thankfully, he’d recovered, though she said he would likely always walk with a limp. But most exciting was the news that she had given birth to a child the previous fall. Annie said that they’d named their son, Thomas, after Finnick’s father. Reading about Annie’s joy had been like salve on Katniss’s worried heart, and she said she hoped their child would get to meet his or her cousin one day.

Winter stretched into spring, and with each week, Peeta found it ever more impossible to contain his excitement. Haymitch would tease him when he would lose track in the middle of conversations and forget to do simple tasks. But Katniss grew increasingly anxious as her delivery date approached.

A week after her birthday, Katniss went into labor. Laughing Bird made a tight bundle of sagebrush and set fire to it. She waved it about, filling their bedroom with its pungent-scented smoke.

Curious, Peeta asked her why she did it, and she simply replied, “To clean the air and keep them both safe.”

When he grew concerned, she gave him a reassuring smile and said everything was going to be fine. Both he and Katniss found courage in her mother’s confident and capable hands. But it was the sound of their baby boy’s robust cries that banished all fears and brought jubilant tears to everyone’s eyes. Even Haymitch became emotional, though he tried to pretend otherwise.

When Peeta held his son for the first time he said a prayer over the child and thanked God for this little miracle, and thinking of Katniss, he asked that the world would treat their son with kindness.

After much thought, Katniss declared that she wanted to name him Sage. She said it was a way to honor her Arapaho heritage, but also because it reminded her of Peeta and the gift that had sustained her during her year in St. Louis.

Sage looked very much like his mother with his dark hair and complexion, though he had his father’s more outgoing disposition. At first Katniss was wary of trading post visitors getting too close to her baby, but Peeta noticed her emerging pride when she saw how even the gruffest of people were won over by their son’s cheerful, gummy grins and giggles.

From the beginning, Sage was a boy of insatiable curiosity. In this regard he took after his mother. Ever since Katniss had returned from St. Louis, she’d been a diligent reader, building on her literacy with books she had brought home with her, and any others that she was able to acquire. Every day, she took time to read, whether it was fiction, history, poetry, or the Bible. She expressed her skepticism, especially with what she saw in the newspapers. It made Peeta proud to listen to her discuss her opinions, because he remembered how, up at the cabin, she’d said she wanted to be literate so that she could look at the world with discernment. But it warmed his heart most of all to watch her as she read to their son.

As soon as he could crawl, Sage took to exploring his world every chance he could escape, which kept all four adults on the run. When he grew especially cranky, it was his grandpa that was best able to settle him down, which prompted Haymitch to complain at the inconvenience, but it wasn’t much of a secret that it made him very happy. He liked to tell his grandson colorful stories of his life as a mountain man. His animated voice and expression captivated the boy.

Soon after Sage was born, Katniss wrote to her sister with the news, and by her son’s first birthday a reply arrived. After he recovered from the gunshot to his hip, Finnick was promoted to the rank of Major in recognition of his leadership during the war. Annie added that Gale Hawthorne had also survived the war and, as expected, had been promoted to Captain. No further details of her old friend were given, but Katniss said she was glad he made it safely back from Texas.

The winter winds howled outside the night 1849 came to a close. Peeta kissed his sleeping son’s head and wondered how anything could improve on the happiness he felt at that moment. And then he entered his bedroom and Katniss was waiting for him, naked under the warm buffalo robe. It took his breath away, just like it had the first time years ago. With midnight approaching and a New Year ready to begin, it seemed to Peeta that life couldn’t get much better.

 

**NOTE: I liked how the wild turnip, similar to the sagebrush, is a prairie parallel to the katniss tuber. Both are potato-like, and both refer to the idea of Katniss finding herself (in the Porcupine Husband folk tale). I also liked the fact that the wild turnip could be made into a flour that Peeta would use in his baking. It’s a twist on THG (Peeta giving Katniss the bread) with something connected to Katniss being given to him.**

**NOTICE: I am going to take an extra week before I post Chapter 11. I’ve just completed Chapter 13 and have delivered it to my wonderful Betas, but I feel I need a little extra time as I work on the final chapters. I'll be covering many historical events, and I want to keep things as accurate as I can. This is also the point where I’ve made the biggest adaptations to the original story to keep it very Everlark-centred. Therefore, I'm giving myself time to go back and make revisions as needed before posting. I hope that the modifications that I make to the original narrative are satisfying for readers.**


	11. Life Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deepest thanks to (on tumblr) finduilasnumenesse, titaniasfics, papofglencoe, and bethylark for all your help and encouragement!

**PART 7 - The Trading Post (1850 - 1851)**

**Chapter 11 - Life Changes**

Katniss couldn’t help herself from embracing Peeta’s optimism. Life was good; their trading post continued to prosper, but more than anything, her family was safe and happy. Her brothers were doing well, too. They’d made a couple of appearances at the trading post, and when she asked if there were troubles with the soldiers, Frank shrugged and Matt reassured them there was nothing to worry about. Katniss could see the relief on their mother’s face.

It was encouraging, and as the family celebrated Sage’s second birthday, Katniss found herself perplexed by all the fears that had plagued her in the past.

They no longer needed to travel back east for trading, since they had secured the services of others to transport their trade goods for them. So in June, when a shipment became long overdue, Haymitch decided to ride up to old Fort John, recently renamed Fort Laramie, to see what was behind the delay.

Haymitch returned to Mellark’s Farm, huffing that their shipments were held up at Fort Kearny for some unexplained reason and he’d have to go straighten things out and bring the goods home himself. He readied their wagon to head east. Peeta offered to go, but the man, only a couple years shy of seventy years of age, grumbled that he was still plenty capable. Katniss knew Peeta was reluctant to contradict Haymitch. A compromise was reached when Laughing Bird insisted that she join her husband.

A few weeks later, Katniss had just put Sage down for his nap when Peeta poked his head in the bedroom door to say that he could see Haymitch and Laughing Bird approaching. Smiling, she swept her son’s dark hair from his eyes, kissed his forehead, and went outside to welcome her parents home. The wagon halted outside the gate, and she saw Peeta glance back at her with a frown. It was odd for her stepfather to not bring the wagon inside. As soon as Haymitch climbed down from the bench and turned to look at them, Katniss knew something was terribly wrong.

“Where’s Laughing Bird?” Peeta asked. Haymitch’s eyes were red, and pain had etched its lines across his face. He shook his head, unable to speak. Katniss started to hyperventilate as panic gripped her chest. Her stepfather pointed to the back of the wagon and then sunk down onto the ground as Peeta immediately went to his partner’s side.

Katniss rushed around to the back of their wagon and lifted the flap. The sight of her mother’s corpse, marked with the unmistakable pallor of death, ripped a cry from her throat, and she collapsed beside the rear wheel. How could this happen? Laughing Bird had always been so strong, and she was only sixty-one years of age. When she felt Peeta’s arms pulling her up, she buried her face in his shirt, shaking her head in disbelief.

He led her over to where Haymitch sat slumped on the ground against the trading post wall. Haymitch’s voice was devoid of its usual crusty edge as he recounted what had taken place.

They collected their goods at Fort Kearny after learning that their hired man had died in a drunken brawl. On the way back, they stopped to make camp alongside the river for the night. Laughing Bird made them supper, and they turned in for the night. By morning she was violently ill, with diarrhea and nausea. Haymitch tried to relieve her intense thirst with water from the river, but she grew weaker, so in a panic he hitched up the mules and headed for home.

Less than a day’s journey upstream, his suspicions about her ailment were confirmed. A few hours later, she was dead.

Haymitch was distraught as he broke the news. “I knew as soon as I saw all the rot and stinking human waste along the river’s edge. Shallow graves with the decaying bodies of the dead. Some graves with more than one person in them. The stench… the sickness that had killed them all just filling the air and seeping into the water that we were drinking.”

They knew about cholera, and had heard all kinds of theories about its cause, but Haymitch insisted it was the water. It had the look and smell of contagion about it, he said. How else could his wife have become ill?

“It was the damn tea that saved me,” Haymitch muttered in misery. “I boiled the water before I drank any of it. Probably saved my life.” But there was no relief in his voice. He vowed that from that day forward, he would never again indulge in the lapsang souchong tea he’d enjoyed for so many years. He claimed it would never taste the same again.

They sat in stunned silence for a time, and then Peeta reached over and placed his hand on his father-in-law’s shoulder and with a gentle voice he said, “Haymitch, we have to bury her.”

Katniss saw him exchange a sorrowful look with her stepfather. She knew the two men were recollecting a time out on the prairie near the Rattlesnake Buttes when the tables had been turned. When another wife had been buried.

“If what you said about those bodies spreading the cholera…” Peeta added when Haymitch failed to respond.

Haymitch just hung his head and mumbled to himself. Peeta hugged him, but a horrible panic gripped Katniss. What if Haymitch was right? Her thoughts turned to her little boy, to the rest of her family. Could they all be at risk?

Peeta saw her wide-eyed terror, and leaving Haymitch’s side, he assured her they would be okay. “If your father is right, and it has something to do with the water, we’ll be safe since we’re upstream. And remember, we don’t get our water from there anyway.”

They got their drinking water from the well inside the post. Peeta also reminded her that no one had shown up at the trading post for a few days, and those who had come through in the past week hadn’t been ill. Katniss could hear his voice, but struggled to hold on to the words, to not give in to fear.

Addressing both of them, Peeta said, “We’ll pick a nice spot away from the post to lay her to rest.” He took a deep breath. “And we’ll pray that it’s enough to keep our family safe.” None of them knew for sure, but it was the best they could do.

With heavy hearts, they buried Laughing Bird out on the prairie. Peeta said he’d come back and erect a fence around the plot, giving her the dignified resting place she deserved. Haymitch, his voice cracking with emotion, said she’d have approved of the view of the mountains from where she lay.

That night they tried to console Haymitch, but he sloughed off their attention, told them he would be fine, and to stop fussing. The only one who seemed to be able to bring the old man comfort was his grandson, who crawled into his lap with a picture book and pretended to read him a story.

All the next day, Katniss kept a wary lookout for signs of cholera in any of them, but by the time the sun set on the second day, the adrenaline that had kept her vigilant began to fade, leaving her exhausted. That night, once everyone was in bed, Katniss broke down and cried as Peeta rocked her.

He told her that if it hadn’t been for Laughing Bird’s insistence that Katniss come to the cabin to find him five years ago, he’d be dead.

“She saw something of worth in me, enough to send her daughter to love a lost man,” he said with reverence. “She believed in me when I hadn’t believed in myself.”

Katniss raised her head to look at Peeta and saw the grief in his eyes. She had been so focused on her and Haymitch’s pain that she’d failed to remember that Peeta was suffering, too. She pulled him close and they mourned together.

When news reached Frank and Matt, they came to pay their respects, and the three siblings wept for their mother, remembering the beautiful, patient and strong woman she had been. Seeing his stepfather so devastated was a kind of breakthrough for Frank. He and Haymitch were finally able to put to rest the bitterness between them. Frank acknowledged that the man had been a good husband to his mother.

One morning they awoke to discover that the brothers had left before dawn. Katniss couldn’t help feel as if the burden of worry for their welfare that her mother had borne now rested on her shoulders.

Later that month, Katniss received a letter from Annie, dated from the previous year. “Oh no,” she whispered. Peeta and Haymitch looked up from the crates they were unloading.

When Peeta asked what was wrong, she informed them that Portia had also died, when cholera raged through St. Louis, killing many of the city’s population. Haymitch took the news especially hard. He shook his head and grumbled. Then he turned and walked out of the store. They didn’t see him again for the remainder of the day.

“We’ve lost both our mothers,” Katniss whispered to her sister across the miles.

As they gathered for supper, she told Peeta and Haymitch that maybe it was a reminder that, despite how the past few years had been good to them, no one was ultimately safe. Haymitch frowned and Peeta put his arms around her. But neither man disagreed with her.

 

Katniss watched with a heavy heart as summer turned to winter. She’d often find herself heading over to the store in the morning with a question for her mother, only to remember that she would not be there. Death had touched so many over the past year, not just cholera but other illnesses such as smallpox. They heard about the devastation that followed settlers as they journeyed west. But the greatest toll was on the Indian tribes. When hunting parties came to trade their buffalo skins at the store, they described the ruthlessness with which it destroyed lives and decimated their numbers.

Ever since her mother died, Haymitch hadn’t been the same. He lacked the vigor of before, and more and more, he left running the store to them. He’d always been a hard worker, but now he would retire early at night, and sleep late into the morning.

His greatest comfort seemed to be found in the company of his grandson. Every evening after supper, Sage insisted on following Haymitch to his quarters at the back of the store and ‘read’ his grandpa a bedtime story, just like he had done the day Laughing Bird passed away.

At first Katniss tried to get her son to not disturb him, but Haymitch told her, “Let him be.”

She and Peeta would clean up and take care of evening chores, and when bedtime rolled around, she’d collect the boy, usually asleep, and take him home to their cabin.

One evening in early January, as Katniss silently expressed her gratitude that the past year was over, she found Haymitch sitting by the wood stove in the rocking chair that Peeta had made for him. Sage was asleep, his head resting against his grandpa’s shoulder. Katniss sank into the chair beside them, and they sat quietly for a time.

When she finally spoke, she said, “Thank you for spending so much time with him. I know he can try your patience with all his questions.” She added with a smirk, “He’s just like his father, loves to chat with everyone.” She covered her stepfather’s hand with her own. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“He’s no trouble,” Haymitch answered. He scowled, but there was a glint in his eye when he added, “A whole lot easier than you were. Always so stubborn, taking off and getting into mischief.” His face softened. “Everdeen would be proud to see how you grew up.”

“That’s because of you. I couldn’t have asked for a better father. Or a better grandfather for my son.”

“I’m a lucky man. I was well into my forties before you and your mother became a part of my life. I couldn’t have hoped for a better partner than Peeta. And now we have Sage.” He paused, then added with a wink, “Maybe more little ones someday, too.”

Katniss hesitated. She’d planned on revealing her discovery to Peeta that night, but it felt right to let Haymitch be the first to know. “We’re going have another one getting under foot next year.”

Haymitch’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, that’s some welcome news.”

Katniss sighed. “It is. I just hope that I can be as good a parent as you’ve been to me.”

“You’re a good mother, Katniss. You and Peeta, you’re going to do just fine.”

Katniss gathered her son in her arms and leaned down and gave Haymitch’s grizzled cheek a kiss. She walked through the store and stepped out the front door into the brisk night air. It was beginning to snow. Peeta was placing wood in the stove for the night when she entered their cabin.

“It’s going to be a cold one,” Katniss said as she carried Sage into his room and put him to bed.

Peeta set the oil lamp down on the night stand and began to undress when she entered their small bedroom. In the soft glow she gazed down at the buffalo skin blanket that covered their bed and ran her fingers through the dense fur. When she felt Peeta’s hands reaching from behind to unbutton her dress, she smiled.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she whispered, as he slid the dress from her shoulders.

“Hmm, what’s that?” Peeta murmured, his breath teasing the skin behind her ear.

Katniss bit her lip as the warmth of his hands distracted her. Right now the only thing she wanted was his lips on her neck.

“It can wait,” she purred. She would tell him in the morning, because for now she could think of other things she’d rather do with her mouth.

The next morning they were awoken to bright sunshine. Peeta sent Sage to go rouse his grandpa and tell him breakfast was ready. The little boy ran out their door and over to the store, as he had on many previous days. Katniss was about to take the time alone with Peeta to tell him about the baby, when Sage came back alone only moments later.

“Where’s Grandpa?” she asked, worried by the perplexed look on her son’s face. Peeta looked up from where he was removing two loaves of bread from their stove.

Sage seemed to sense the fear in his mother’s face, and fat tears started to run down his chubby cheeks. “Grandpa’s sick.”

Peeta went immediately to check on his partner, Katniss following close behind. They found him sitting on the edge of his bed, head down and grey-faced. But he waved off any concern in his typical surly way.

Once Haymitch had eaten a little breakfast, Katniss insisted he take a rest. When he came out to the front of the store, he seemed a little better, but Katniss whispered to Peeta that they’d need to keep an eye on him.

Despite their intentions, they became busy later that afternoon when a Cheyenne hunting party arrived to trade. Katniss was drawing water from their well and caught her stepfather lifting the bundle of heavy buffalo robes while Peeta was engaged in conversation with the hunters who’d brought them in.

She was about to chastise her stepfather, when he collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest.

“Peeta!” she screamed and they ran to his side. He barely had time to whisper to Sage as the little boy clung to his hand, telling him to be a good big brother. And then he took his last breath.

They buried him next to Laughing Bird. Peeta said a prayer, and after, as they walked back to the trading post, Katniss thought of how resilient a man her stepfather had always been. And how much he had earned the loyalty and admiration of people like Portia and the various Indian tribes who trusted him. He’d endured so many challenges over the years, and yet underneath it all he was a sentimental man. In recent years she had witnessed how he had become freer with his affection so that it was impossible to miss how much they all meant to him. But most of all he had loved her mother.

“He died of a broken heart,” she whispered to Peeta as they walked hand-in-hand back to the trading post.

Peeta closed his eyes and nodded. “He was never the same after she passed away. But they’re together again.”

It dawned on Katniss that she still hadn’t told Peeta her news. The time just hadn’t felt right with the loss of her remaining parent and the end of an era that it marked. Sage discovered a jackrabbit hiding in the dry grass. The boy gave chase through the thin layer of snow, and they found themselves laughing even in their grief. And Katniss realized that it was exactly the happy news they needed.

“Sage is going to miss his grandfather so much,” she started and then added, “But at least he’ll have someone else to read stories to later this year.”

Peeta was lost in thought and nodded. And then he stopped as the implication sunk in. His eyebrows raised in question. “Katniss?”

She gave him a smile and nodded.

Peeta pulled her into a hug, and Katniss snuggled herself into his warmth as a wintery breeze whipped around them.

“I’m just happy that he knew before he died,” she said.

The corner of Peeta’s mouth turned up. “I was wondering what Haymitch meant when he said what he did to Sage.” He grew wistful. “Sometimes I think about…” But he never finished the thought.

“What?” Katniss pulled back to look at him.

“It makes me wonder if my mother is still alive.”

It was easy to forget that Peeta had a family back east. He never spoke of them, but she imagined that the rejection that had driven him out west must still weigh on him. She suggested that he could write a letter to them, but he dismissed the idea.

“It’s just curiosity. Everything I want and need is right here.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss.

Peeta and Katniss decided that it was best for them to move into her parents’ home at the back of the store. Not only would it be better for keeping an eye on the inventory, there was more room for their growing family. Peeta suggested that they could turn their cabin into a bunkhouse for overnight visitors.

They settled into their new living space by the middle of January. With her parents gone, and feeling the void they left behind, Katniss took comfort that by the fall, they would be adding a new member to their family.

On the anniversary of her mother’s death, Katniss found herself thinking of Annie. It had been a long time since there had been any word from her, which made Katniss worry about what might be going on that kept her sister silent. Or maybe it was simply the sporadic nature of the mail.

She decided to send a letter of her own, when an unexpected arrival at the trading post interrupted her plan. Peeta called from outside the store announcing that riders were coming.

“Looks like cavalry uniforms, according to these trappers,” he said.

It was rare for soldiers to come by their trading post, and it always made Katniss uneasy. With Sage down for his nap, and while Peeta took care of their customers, she climbed up onto the lookout platform.

Sure enough, she saw two men in blue United States Army uniforms, one on horseback, the other driving a small wagon pulled by mules. But it was the blonde woman riding with them that caught her eye. Could it be?

She looked down at Peeta and with breathless excitement exclaimed, “I think that’s my sister!” The man riding beside her, with just a hint of bronze hair beneath his hat, had to be Finnick. Such an unexpected and welcome surprise drove Katniss down to the ground, but then she froze, unsure what to do.

“Go!” Peeta laughed, “I’ll take care of the store.”

With as much haste as her six-month pregnant body would allow, she ran to greet the riders. Annie spurred on her horse to close the distance.

“Annie!” Katniss cried out when her sister reached her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Annie dismounted and they embraced each other tightly. Her sister’s eyes were wide with delight at Katniss’s belly. Katniss glanced up at Finnick, who gave her his familiar flirty grin.

“When I told Annie I was being sent out to Fort Laramie, there was no way I could stop her from joining me.”

“Sent out here?” Katniss asked.

“We’ll explain everything,” Annie answered. “But right now let me just look at you. I’ve missed you so much, and there’s so many things to talk about!” she laughed.

Katniss looked up at a sandy-haired boy sitting on the bench beside the soldier driving the wagon. He looked to be between four and five years of age. “Your son? Thomas?”

“Yes. And he’s excited to meet his cousin,” Annie replied.

Katniss grabbed her hand, “Come on. I can’t wait for you to see him. He just turned three last month.” Her face was beaming when she added with a smile, “And for you to meet Peeta, too.”

Finnick dismounted, gave her a hug, and winked. “Yes, it’s time we meet this man that dragged you away from St. Louis.” He glanced over to the trading post. “And I need to speak with Haymitch. I have a big favor to ask of him.”

Tears formed in Katniss’s eyes. It was often this way. She would go about for days doing just fine, and one reminder of her parents and all the grief came rushing back.

Annie grabbed her arms, distress written across her countenance as she read her sister’s mind. “Oh no, Katniss. First our mothers. Not Haymitch, too?”

She placed her arm around Katniss’s shoulders, and they walked back to the trading post as Katniss told them what had happened.

While the soldier who had accompanied the Odairs tended to the animals, Katniss and Peeta led the way to their little cemetery. Thomas and Sage chased gophers and butterflies as they walked. Watching the two cousins laugh and play made them all smile.

Finnick and Annie spoke with affection for Laughing Bird and Haymitch as they stood beside their graves.

“I’m so happy we got to spend some time with both of them in St. Louis,” Annie whispered. “And that our mothers were able to meet and become friends.”

Katniss took her sister’s hand. “Portia did so much to help me,” she replied. “I’ll never forget how she seemed almost bigger than life.”

Finnick chuckled in agreement. “St. Louis will never be the same without her.”

“We were both blessed with incredible mothers,” Annie added. “And Haymitch will be missed by so many out here on the prairies.”

As they walked back, conversation turned to the business that had brought the Odairs to Mellark’s Farm.

The Army had appointed Finnick to act as one of the Indian Agents to negotiate a treaty with all the plains tribes. His job was to make contact with the Arapaho and Cheyenne chiefs. It didn’t come as a surprise to Katniss, who remembered the idealism with which he had spoken back in St. Louis. He had been convinced that peace could be achieved, and she would never forget the way he had described Frank and Matt as his brothers, too. She couldn’t help feel a spark of optimism as he described his assignment.

Finnick explained his task. “They want to invite representatives of all the Native tribes in the region to a meeting where we can settle once and for all who owns what. That way the Army can establish some additional forts along the wagon trails with the consent of each tribe whose land is impacted, and the settlers can travel out to Oregon without fear. But the main thing is, the rights of ownership of the land would be respected, with the government offering annual monetary compensation to the tribes for allowing the wagon trains and forts on their land.”

Katniss considered the importance of this treaty. If it really could be achieved, it could make the difference to so many people. But could the government really be trusted? She had learned about the history of conflict with other Indian tribes east of the Mississippi while attending school in St. Louis.

Finnick insisted that this time it could be different, because they were dealing with the land issues early. “If we can get an agreement signed by all parties now, then there can be no misunderstanding.”

He sounded confident, and as they discussed it further over dinner, Katniss wanted to believe it was possible. But she wasn’t certain how well these government representatives understood the Indian nations and their connection to the land.

“We’ve met them, you know. Our brothers,” Annie said to Katniss. “Finnick and I visited an Arapaho village near Fort Laramie just after we settled in, and they were there.”

“How did it go?” Katniss asked.

Annie smiled. “They called me their sister. They don’t trust the government, but they said that they would listen to Finnick and consider his proposal out of respect for me. But they warned us that it will not be easy. Oh, Katniss, it was so wonderful getting to know them. And meeting the others in the village, too. I got to spend time with the women and children. I just know we have to make this work for their sakes.”

Finnick leaned forward, his face serious. “Losing Haymitch is a blow to my plan, however.”

“I told Finnick about how Haymitch built relationships with so many tribes over the years,” Annie added. “How he spoke many of the languages, and I just knew he should be included in the negotiations. They’d listen to him, because they knew and trusted him.”

Katniss wanted this treaty to become a reality. She thought of her own children. How this agreement could make their lives more certain, too. The loss of her stepfather to act as a negotiator was a big loss to many more people than just her family. She glanced over at Peeta, who was listening without comment. She could see he was pondering the implications, too. And an answer came to her.

“Peeta, you should go in Haymitch’s place. You’ve built relationships with the various tribes that we’ve traded with. You even won over my brothers, which is no mean feat. You can speak some of the language…”

Peeta shook his head. “Not nearly as well as Haymitch. Plus, with the baby coming…”

Annie jumped in. “I can stay with Katniss, and help around here. We Everdeen girls are tough, there’s nothing we can't handle!” she said with a laugh. She reached for her brother-in-law’s hand across the table. “Anything you could do to help make this work would be critical to so many lives. Not just to help with the issue of settlers crossing the land, but with intertribal conflict, too.”

Peeta said he’d have to sleep on it, and that night he and Katniss lay in bed facing each other and discussed the matter.

“Finnick and the other negotiators don’t have the understanding that you have,” Katniss said. “They want representative chiefs to come to the meeting, but the tribes don’t operate that way. They rely on consensus. They need you to help them understand how it works for both sides.”

She paused. “Finnick thinks they will only have a few hundred people showing up to meet at Fort John. But they need to prepare for many more than that. Entire villages could be showing up to hear what the government is proposing. I know our brother-in-law is confident, but he needs all the help you can give.”

By the next day Peeta gave his consent. The plan was for Finnick and him to ride out to visit the various Arapaho and Cheyenne villages and persuade them to attend the meeting at Fort Laramie, where the terms could be discussed. Then they would act as negotiators at the gathering. It would likely mean they’d be gone until August, or possibly September, and Katniss balked at such a long separation. If the stakes weren’t so high, she would have begged him to stay.

The men spent the remainder of the day getting as much of the heavy work done around the trading post as possible to make it easier for Katniss and Annie. Peeta fretted over every detail until Katniss finally took him aside and reassured him that if they needed anything, she was certain visiting braves or even her brothers would show up at some point.

“I want Frank and Matt at that meeting!” Finnick declared. “They have a stake in this, too, and it’s a chance for them to use their influence with the Arapaho and Cheyenne in a positive way. It would go so far in repairing their reputations with the Army.” His voice grew more grave. “I’ve staked my own reputation on this treaty, too.”

It was the first hint of concern he’d given. Katniss knew that Finnick was a smart man, if an idealistic one. In the end, it would still come down to the integrity of the leaders back east.

That night, Katniss rested her chin on Peeta’s chest. “I’m really proud of you for doing this. I know you can help win over the chiefs. I just hope Finnick is right about the sincerity of the government.”

Peeta kissed her and answered, “Well, there’s only one way we’ll find out.”

The next morning, she could feel his reluctance to release her from a hug. “I’ll try to be back before the baby comes,” he whispered.

“We’ll be waiting,” she answered, trying to keep her voice from betraying any anxiety.

The two men kissed their wives, mounted horses, and following the wagon that carried gifts for the chiefs, they headed out the stockade gates. And then they were gone.

Katniss and Annie had their hands full running the trading post and managing two active boys. As much as Katniss appreciated being with her sister, as the time grew closer to her delivery date, she became agitated. During the day she was troubled by concerns that, after three months with no word from anyone, the negotiating must not be going well. Annie reassured Katniss by reminding her of the immense task of bringing so many people from such a broad country together in one place.

Despite her sister’s logic, Katniss began to experience disturbing dreams. The death of her parents was still too fresh, and for some reason, images of the Indian Mounds at Cahokia kept making an appearance, as well.

 _It’s like the wildflowers, No’oo,_ Katniss had said to her mother. _Nothing lasts. For people like us especially._

In her dreams, she could feel Laughing Bird’s hand squeezing hers as they stood and looked upon the remnants of an ancient tribe lost to time.

In the middle of September, Katniss went into labor. There were massive thunderhead clouds darkening the sky, and the air was electrified with the promise of a late summer storm. Though she had Annie to hold her hand, she couldn’t conceal her disappointment that Peeta wasn’t there in her place. As the contractions grew closer, she knew she had to face the reality that he would not arrive in time. She could smell the rain as it fell, drumming on the roof.

“The boys…” Katniss murmured.

“They’re fine. Already in bed,” Annie replied.

A flash of lightning illuminated the dimly lit room. It was followed by the boom of thunder.

“Not much longer,” Annie said brightly, and wiped her sister’s brow. Katniss nodded and sought to find strength in the encouragement.

There was the sound of commotion outside, and with a frown, Annie grumbled that she’d neglected to close the gate for the night. She got up to go out front to deal with whomever had arrived, when the door that separated the store from the living quarters flew open and a flushed Peeta rushed into their bedroom.

He was dripping wet and breathless. But all that mattered to Katniss was seeing his broad grin.

“You made it,” Katniss gasped.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he grinned and leaned down to kiss her. “We did it, there’s a treaty.”

“You really got the agreement?”

He nodded. “It’s a good one, Katniss. It’s very generous with the land and compensation guaranteed for the next fifty years. You should have seen it,” he said proudly. “All these different Nations, some sworn enemies, gathered together peacefully to make it happen.”

Annie interrupted, “Finnick didn’t come with you?”

“I left Finnick to complete the final details. I had to get back. He’ll be here as soon as…” Another contraction arrived and Peeta grimaced as Katniss clenched his hand.

Two hours later, they welcomed another son to their family. When Katniss asked Peeta what he would like for a name, he said he wanted to name him David. Katniss asked him if it was a family name, and he shook his head.

“No,” he whispered and ran his hand over his son’s head, “It’s because it means ‘beloved.’ ”

 

**NOTE: It wasn’t understood in 1850 how cholera was spread. The link between the disease and poor sanitation and contaminated drinking water was discovered in later decades. I have played with history a bit by having Haymitch suspect the cause. There was a major outbreak of cholera in St. Louis in 1849 which did kill, according to my research, around ten percent of the population.**

**NOTE: The Fort Laramie Treaty in 1851 started out with good intentions. It was a monumental achievement to bring so many people together to reach an agreement. Ratifying and honoring the treaty in Washington turned out to be far more problematic despite the hard work of Indian Agents and the Native Tribes.**


	12. Allies and Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold Fever, settlers, more Toastbabies, and an unexpected guest arrive at Mellark’s Farm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: The next few chapters reference many historical events. Michener was a master at developing characters in order to tell a historical story. My purpose is to tell a character story using history as a backdrop. While I have tried to remain accurate wherever possible, there are times when I have adapted the history for creative purposes. Fans of Centennial will also begin to see a divergence from the canon material, as I adapt the original story in order to keep Katniss and Peeta central to the events that take place.
> 
>    
> Thank you finduilasnumenesse, titaniasfics, papofglencoe for reading my drafts and offering advice. Thank you bethylark for your assistance with Native American details.  
> I am so appreciative to everyone who has taken the time to share your thoughts by leaving a comment.
> 
> This story wouldn’t be the same without the support you’ve all given me. :-)

**Chapter 12 - Allies and Enemies (1853 - 1864)**

It was a very Katniss kind of day. She’d been reluctant to leave Peeta alone with two boys and a store to run, but he’d reminded her that Sage’s fifth birthday was coming up.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to celebrate with some fresh game?” he’d innocently suggested.

She had to chuckle. When he’d proposed the same thing to her the previous week when her twenty-sixth birthday arrived, she had declined. Peeta knew that all it would take to convince her to take a day to herself was to make it about her boys.

It had been a long time since she had gone hunting. Running the store and raising two active boys didn’t allow for much free time. She changed into her deerskin dress, which earned her an appreciative grin from Peeta, saddled her pony, and rode west into the mountains.

It was the middle of May and the sun was strong. She glanced in the direction where the cabin lay. There were no wildflowers this year, as it was too dry, and she wondered when they might reappear. It had been eight years since she’d last seen them.

A memory slipped into her mind of a day in the mountains when she’d come home with a goose. It was the first time that she had allowed herself to acknowledge her attraction to Peeta. She remembered how they shared that meal and had taken the first steps to getting to know each other. They’d talked about simple things, but what she remembered most was how distracted she was by those sincere blue eyes with their impossibly long lashes, and how difficult it had been to resist smoothing away the unruly blond waves from his face.

Looking back on it with the benefit of time, she admitted that on that day he had broken through her defenses and begun to root inside her heart. When she kissed him after shooting that elk, there hadn’t been a moment of hesitation. She’d been fantasizing about doing it for days. Caught up in the excitement, she forgot that those kisses hadn’t been real. Until it was. One of these days, they needed to return to their meadow, she determined. If only there was more free time.

By afternoon she had accumulated an impressive haul. Two geese, a cottontail rabbit and a bagful of the first wild strawberries of the season. It had been an invigorating day, but she grew impatient to return home to her family after a day of solitude. She had traveled south paralleling the mountains, so she angled to the northeast, estimating that she’d be back at the trading post in time to pluck and prepare one of the geese for supper.

She nudged her pony up the bank of the small creek she’d been following and into a clearing. Just as she was about to head toward the open plains, she saw the crude shelter and pack mules. Sitting outside the log and canvas lean-to was a woman with a baby and two other children. Beyond them she spied a man and an older boy down by the creek, crouched down and swirling water around in pans. She knew about the gold rush in California, but this was the first time she’d seen anyone around here trying their hand. She thought of her father and his fruitless search for her grandfather’s lost gold.

The family was struggling, she could see how thin they were, the hollow look of hunger and failure on their faces. The baby in the woman’s arms was crying with a pitiful wail as the mother attempted to console it. A girl of about ten was scrubbing clothes in a small tub. Only the little boy next to her, seemed not to reflect their dispirited demeanor, grinning as he used a stick to draw in the dirt.

The woman looked up as Katniss approached, and the little boy gave a cheerful ‘Hello.’ The greeting caused the man and his older son to stand up and turn in her direction. They left the river and came to stand beside the lean-to. That’s when she saw that there was something else in their expressions. The wariness as they regarded her in her Arapaho dress, armed with her bow.

The woman laid the baby down in a basket and her eyes flicked between Katniss and the bounty strapped to her saddle. She reminded herself of Peeta’s words about letting actions help change attitudes. She dismounted and smiled.

“I’ve had a good day hunting, and I really don’t need all of this.” She nodded towards the game. “I’d be happy to share.”

The father’s eyes narrowed with a hint of contempt. “I can look after my family just fine. We don’t need charity, especially from…” He didn’t finish the thought when his wife elbowed him in the ribs.

Katniss sighed. This man’s stupid pride wouldn’t let him accept the help of an Indian, even though his family needed it desperately. Katniss recognized the look on his face. She’d seen it so often back in Fort John. Only now instead of making her defensive, it just made her sad.

She was about to remount her pony and depart when her eyes fell on the younger boy, clinging to his mother’s skirts, and she saw the way he swallowed when looking at the game she had offered them. He was maybe a year older than Sage and, with his dark hair, resembled him a little bit.

Biting her lip, she untied the game and, ignoring the father, she walked over to the mother and thrust it all into her arms. “Take it. For your children.” The woman’s expression morphed from fear to surprise. Katniss shot a withering glare at her husband, “You don’t have to share with him, if he doesn’t want any of it.” The mother gave a tired smile of appreciation and the little boy’s face lit up. Katniss crouched down. “What’s your name?” she asked gently.

“Eddy,” he answered, and then he asked, “Did you really shoot all of these with your bow?”

Eddy’s wide eyes and earnest expression brought a smile to her face. She nodded and went back for the bag of strawberries and handed them to him, too. She stood up and turned to face the father.

With as much diplomacy as she could muster, she said, “My grandfather found some gold up here someplace, and it meant nothing to him. He lived a good and honorable life. My father was a fur trapper who spent years looking for it. He never found it, but died searching.” She regarded the man’s family before turning back to add, “You might want to think about that. Right now they need food more than they need gold.”

The fire had burned out of the man’s eyes. He glanced at his family huddled around her gift of food, gave a curt nod, but remained silent.

“I’m not your enemy,” Katniss said with an empathy that surprised her. “My family runs a trading post northeast of here. If you need anything, you come find us.”

She walked back to her pony and was surprised to find Eddy’s mother at her side. “We’ll never forget what you did for us,” the woman whispered.

“Where will you go?” Katniss asked.

The mother looked at her children, shrugged and said they’d maybe look for a place to try and homestead. Whatever her husband decided.

With a final wish of good luck to the family, Katniss mounted, now without any game to take home but satisfied that she had done the right thing, and pointed her pony towards home. Katniss wondered if she’d ever see Eddy again. But then her thoughts turned to Peeta and her boys waiting back at the trading post, and all she wanted was to hurry back to them.

 

**1860**

It turned out that Eddy and his family were just a foretaste of things to come. Within a few years the area became a magnet for prospectors seeking their fortunes when the elusive gold that Everdeen had sought for so many years was discovered in the mountains southwest of Mellark’s Farm. By 1860, the area was bustling, not only with gold miners, but other settlers who followed in their wake to make a living providing food and services to the growing population.

These were good days for Mellark’s Farm. Business was brisk. Overwhelming at times actually. Running the trading post was a handful, especially with Katniss and Peeta’s growing family. They welcomed their daughter Juniper, in 1854, and another son, named Hunter, arrived in 1857. Katniss had brought up the idea of finding a partner, but Peeta couldn’t imagine anyone replacing Haymitch.

In the end, a different solution presented itself. Enterprising settlers began to approach them about selling small parcels of their land so that they could open their own businesses. It could take some of the pressure off of them and their trading post.

After much consideration and discussion, Peeta expressed his support of the idea, and Katniss gave her consent. Soon their trading post was joined by other buildings, and Mellark’s Farm was on its way to becoming a village.

With families moving into the area, and their own children needing more education than either busy parent could provide, Peeta and Katniss brought in a teacher, and a school was established.

Finnick and Annie had relocated to Denver, the town that had sprung up due to all the gold activity in the adjacent mountains. Finnick continued to act as Indian Agent, but now his headquarters were located at the army base just north of the thriving center. He had a lovely home built for Annie, Thomas and their daughter, born in 1854, just a month before Juniper’s birth. They named her Marguerite, or Maggie for short. Katniss appreciated having them only a day’s ride south.

However, the financial success of the area brought other changes that were of grave concern to Katniss and her extended family. While riding in the mountains, Katniss discovered that the pristine river valley where gold had been found was decimated. The scarred land was stripped of trees and crowded with ugly shacks, and the ground was strewn with all the junk that accompanied the miners.

But there was an even more disturbing development for the Mellarks and Odairs. The influx of settlers had led to the flagrant disregard of the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1851. Wagons and mule trains indiscriminately crossed the land heading for the gold fields, ignoring the terms of the treaty. Squatters began to establish farms on land that had promised to the Arapaho and Cheyenne in their area. The great buffalo herds, so critical to their survival, began to diminish.

“There are too many people coming out and too few resources at the army’s disposal or the will to properly enforce the treaty,” Finnick told them when he and Annie came to visit one Sunday in July. “It’s bad enough that the financial compensation term was rolled back from fifty years to ten when it reached Washington. And now even those promised payments fail to arrive. I’ve spoken to the chiefs and they are losing patience. Some of the leaders and their braves want to take measures into their own hands if the army won’t.”

Katniss watched as Juniper and Maggie played with their dolls out in the yard. Hunter had fallen asleep in her lap, while the three older boys were off fishing in the river. As the adults discussed current events, she became lost in thought, wondering if her brothers were involved with those calling for action. She suspected that they were. And as concerned as she was for them, she felt their outrage.

Then the news arrived later that fall that Washington was renegotiating the terms of the treaty. With a heavy heart and not a little anger, Finnick arrived at Mellark’s Farm to break the news to Katniss and Peeta.

“You and I gave our word and staked our reputations on that deal, Peeta. And Arapaho chiefs like Grey Cloud did too, by recommending it to their people. But now they want them to accept land a sixteenth of what was originally agreed upon. I’m tasked with riding out to convince the Cheyenne and Arapaho that they should all become farmers, satisfied with small acreages for each family. They have no experience with farming. And to make matters worse, look where it’s located.”

He pointed out the new boundaries on a map he spread on their table. “How the hell are they supposed to farm without water? It’s all desert. Hardly even a tree. Without the buffalo and with such poor land, they’ll starve to death.”

Peeta looked at the map, without comment. Katniss studied her husband’s face and saw creases form across his forehead and the corners of his mouth turn down.

“I guess I would know as well as anyone about that piece of land,” was his somber reply.

Katniss looked closer at the map and saw that it was located to the northeast of them, encompassing the Rattlesnake Buttes, where Delly had died. The horrible irony was too much.

“When Frank hears this, it’ll be terrible,” Katniss whispered. “He will be counseling any of the chiefs or braves who listen to him to go to war. He didn’t support the treaty in the first place, predicted that the government couldn’t be trusted. I can’t imagine how this amendment will ever be accepted.”

Finnick hung his head. “At this point, I’m just trying to find a way to keep people from getting hurt. And I’ll keep appealing for sanity from the leaders back east. I’ve written letters reminding them that the tribes have kept their end of the deal. But Washington changes its mind with every administration.”

“It’s the gold,” Peeta said. “It’s brought too much attention to the value of the land.”

“When we smoked the calumet, made the treaty, it was a solemn pledge for the tribes. I only wish we could expect something similar from our leaders back east. It’s an outrageous thing to ask of the chiefs,” Finnick said. “But if I fail…” His words trailed off as he shook his head.

“Grey Cloud is encamped not far from here,” Peeta said. “He told me, back in ’51, that the only hope for his people was in finding a peaceful solution. He was so instrumental in influencing the other chiefs at Fort Laramie. You should go to him first.”

“I’m not proud to ask this of you, Peeta. But will you come with me to talk with Grey Cloud, ask him to plead with his people and the other chiefs one more time for peace? We need to find an effective way to beg for patience, or the troubles between the Indians and the settlers could get out of control. I need them to know that despite this new treaty, I’m not giving up.” He gave a ragged sigh. “With me being the government’s agent, there are some that may not listen to me when they hear this, but maybe they will listen to you.”

“Finnick, they know that you’re not responsible,” Katniss said, a sudden uneasiness clutching her chest. He gave a grateful nod.

She told Finnick that there was a bed waiting for him in their bunk house. When he retired for the night, she lay next to Peeta, neither of them speaking.

Gale’s warning about what lay ahead for Peeta and their children echoed in Katniss’s mind.

_You won’t be doing him any favors either. If things escalate between us and the Indians, sides will have to be chosen, and he, along with the children you wish to protect, will be caught in the middle of it._

It was an impossible position for Peeta. On one hand, she could envision the sense of betrayal he would evoke if he helped Finnick persuade the Indian leaders to accept the new terms. But on the other hand, she knew her husband would never remain idle with the injustice.The more public and outspoken he became, the more it could only stir up discord within their community. It could spill over onto their children. All because of his connection to her. And she grew afraid for them. As much as she feared what was happening to her brothers and the tribes, Katniss felt only terror for what it could mean for her family.

“I don’t want you to go,” she finally said. “Let Finnick handle it. It’s his job. You don’t have to be a part of this.”

“I’m already a part of it. Avoiding the problem isn’t going to fix anything.”

“This is going to come down on you and the children. It’s my fault, because you married me. I made you go with Finnick to Fort Laramie.”

Peeta cupped her face in his hands. “I went because it was the right thing to do. And I’ll go now not just to help Finnick, but also to let the chiefs know that there are still some of us who are fighting on their behalf. It isn’t much, but maybe it’s enough to keep the peace until some kind of fairness can be restored.” His eyes peered into hers. “And I do it for you and the children most of all. To show that we don’t have to let fear and circumstance change what we stand for.”

She leaned in to kiss him.

 

**1864**

School was out and soon the children would drift home. The scent in the warm air forecast the beginning of autumn. It was Katniss’s favorite time of day. She stood in the doorway of the store, watching Peeta help carry goods over to a customer’s wagon. The man was grumbling about the cost of his purchases, but Peeta reminded him that his prices had gone up as well due to the war being waged back east.

Though she and Peeta did their best to insulate their family, Mellark’s Farm was not immune to outside events. They felt the indirect effects of the Civil War, as the conflict touched their lives in several ways.

Colorado, a territory since 1861, became a matter of concern when Confederate forces moved west, keen on gaining control of the gold and other valuable resources it contained.

With troops needed back in the states, local militias were formed to fill the vacuum. Even though they were under the command of General Cray, a Union officer, Finnick revealed that he was a man predisposed to fight the Confederate threat, but ineffective at providing leadership on the escalating violence between the Indian tribes and white settlers.

Grey Cloud and other like-minded chiefs continued to call for peace, but there were other chiefs who refused to accept the 1861 revised treaty. As supply wagon trains and farms trespassed on lands promised to the Arapaho and Cheyenne, they took it upon themselves to defend their property. When Frank and Matt visited Mellark’s Farm they said it was justified measures due to the failure of the government or the army to live up to their promises.

“They kill the buffalo on our lands!” Frank raged. “So we take their livestock,” he added with contempt.

“Remember what I told you, Peeta, when you first built the trading post,” Matt said. “This is the war I knew would come.”

Many white settlers demanded retaliation. To the Odairs’ dismay, these were the people filling the ranks of the militias.

Finnick had lamented about the situation when he stopped by the trading post to investigate another confrontation several months earlier.

“When I came out here, the army soldiers were supposed to be peacekeepers, protect the wagon trains, yes. But also to defend the treaty that the Indians signed in good faith. But now I don’t know whose side I’m on. The army is told to enforce this new treaty that is not in the Indians’ favor, while I am left to explain to the Indians why their agent consistently fails to protect their interests.” His handsome face was framed by hair tinted with premature grey. “I’m both ally and enemy to each side, trying to act as the middle man, and I’m losing credibility with both.”

General Cray privately sympathized with Finnick, but was loath to face the wrath of the increasingly hostile people in and around Denver who wanted the Indian presence dealt with swiftly and decisively.

Meanwhile, the Indian tribes starved waiting for the promised help that never arrived. Katniss and Annie responded to the hardship in the Indian villages by regularly taking food and other supplies out to them. It barely made a dent in the problem, and it distressed both women to see so much suffering that their two families were unable to alleviate.

On top of everything else, Annie shared another disturbing development.

“There’s a new commander of our local militia who is growing popular with the people in Denver. Wherever Colonel Thread is speaking, he’s gathering a dangerous amount of support,” Annie explained. “His farm was attacked back in Minnesota and most of his family was killed by the Sioux, so now he’s out for vengeance. He doesn’t care if the Indians he goes after are guilty of anything, he wants them all gone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her face contorted by disgust. “He thinks he’s on a mission from God. Katniss, he’s absolutely pathological, but people are listening to him.”

“But he answers to Cray, right?” Katniss confirmed.

Annie frowned. “For now, but from what we know, Thread has the ear of military leaders back east. He was some kind of hero fighting the Confederates in New Mexico. He’s charismatic, doesn’t respect General Cray due to his inaction, and is making things very difficult for Finnick. He hates everything we stand for, Katniss. I’m scared where it will lead.”

Despite these dire developments, there was one thing that brought a measure of happiness to Katniss’s life. At the trading post, she could grasp onto a few precious hours of respite from her anxiety. It was her family’s haven, a safe and tranquil place as the world outside churned with unrest. She stuffed the worrisome thoughts down and turned her focus back to her husband across the yard.

Peeta heaved a heavy sack of flour into the customer’s wagon, and she felt a rush of desire color her face. At forty-four years of age he had never been more handsome. She liked how the muscles strained the material of his shirt as he loaded the last of the purchases. The flex of his powerful thighs as he shoved the goods forward in the wagon. How the sweat made his blond hair curl at the nape of his neck.

After eighteen years of marriage, she knew every nuance, could anticipate every reaction and read the emotion behind any expression. And yet there were still moments like this that made her catch her breath.

He caught her staring and gave her an amused grin. “What?” he mouthed from across the yard with a look that was almost smug. It was strangely unnerving how with one quick glance, he could read her mind and share her unspoken thoughts.

She replied with a coquettish smile that caused him to laugh. It was in these little private moments that she could forget for a little while the troubles outside their stockade walls.

Seven-year-old Hunter was the first to arrive home. When Peeta called him over, he ran to give his father a quick hug. Peeta asked in German about his day. The boy breathlessly gave a short report in Arapaho. It was a routine Peeta insisted with all of their children and it always made Katniss proud. Peeta ruffled his son’s hair, said, “Hohou,” the Arapaho word for ‘Thank you’, and then dismissed the impatient boy.

Hunter came running up to the store and gave Katniss a hug, but he slipped out of her grasp a little sooner than she would have preferred. He ran to the counter, reached into a large glass jar and sneaked some hard candy. It made Katniss scowl and shake her head.

Then, like the imp he was, Hunter grinned and said, “I love you, Mama.”

Katniss sighed, and the corner of her mouth tweaked up. Already he knew how to push her buttons to get what he wanted.

“Only one piece, or you’ll spoil your appetite,” she instructed him, and he took off outside, to explore or track down small animals that caught his fancy.

It turned out that they had chosen his name well, as he was the child who was most eager to learn how to use the bow. Though Katniss had no memory of her father, she had heard enough stories to imagine that Hunter had inherited Everdeen’s adventurous and charismatic personality.

Next to arrive was Juniper. She was the spitting image of Katniss except for the lovely blue eyes she had inherited from her father. Katniss worried about her though. At ten, she was entering a shy stage. She was reserved, more likely to be lost in a book or a daydream than spend time with friends. But Katniss reminded herself that she hadn’t been all that different at that age.

Juniper stopped to greet her father, but Katniss saw Peeta’s smile replaced by a furrowed brow. She hugged her mother as well when she arrived at the door. But instead of heading directly to work on her school assignments, with a serious expression and a steady voice, she said, “David got in a fight.”

Surprised, Katniss asked, “Over what?”

Juniper shrugged and glanced back towards the yard. She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Katniss knew her well enough to know it wasn’t true. There was distress in her daughter eyes despite her reticent manner.

David was the easygoing one who wasn’t prone to fighting with anyone. Though he’d just turned thirteen, he was showing signs of inheriting his father’s stocky frame, but it was rare for him to use his emerging strength for anything other than helping Peeta around the store. He wasn’t as outgoing as his older brother, Sage, and avoided conflict. However, he did have the occasional flashes of temper if provoked. Whatever had happened must be serious.

“Sage broke it up,” Juniper added as she left the front of the store for her room.

Sage was their scholar, quick to engage anyone in a debate on anything with anyone if they were willing. At sixteen, he was tall and lean like Katniss’s brothers. He may have inherited their strong wills, but his diplomatic nature came from Peeta. His spirited desire to discuss injustice made Katniss proud, though lately he had grown more cautious as the people he encountered became less respectful.

Katniss crossed the yard to where Peeta was standing. He was frowning as she reached his side. Before she could utter a word about David’s misadventure though, Sage and David entered the gate.

“What happened?” Peeta asked his second son.

David’s hair was bleached by the summer sun to a shade only slightly darker than his father’s. It hung over his forehead, mostly concealing soft brown eyes that reminded Katniss so much of Laughing Bird. She swept the hair back and inspected what would likely turn into a black eye. David’s freckled cheeks flushed, and he muttered under his breath, looking at the ground.

Sage spoke up for him. “Apparently the other boy said something about Uncle Frank and Uncle Matt.”

David was reluctant to say what, but when Peeta pressed, he finally relented. “He said that if vermin won’t stay where they’re supposed to, the best thing is to kill them.” Tears started to run down his cheeks.

“That’s when I got there,” Sage said. “Pulled David off of him.” He gave a small huff, but Katniss sensed a flicker of pride in her eldest child when he added, “I doubt that kid will have anything to say about it again anytime soon.”

Katniss felt ill. Her anxiety had been building for ages over the growing bigotry in their village, and having it touch her children brought the bile up in the back of her throat. But fear wasn’t all she felt as her jaw clenched with anger. Fortunately, Peeta remained calm.

“Well, you know we prefer to use words rather than fists to make a point, but I understand wanting to stand up for your uncles. Alright, let’s get that eye looked at.”

He said nothing more, but she could see it was upsetting to Peeta, too. Just under his usual mild demeanor, she saw the soft blue of his eyes turn hard with a flash of the rare temper that he shared with his son.

The first frost in October set the groves of deciduous trees along the river front ablaze in fall color. Ordinarily, it would have delighted Katniss, but this year there was a cold foreboding in the decay that it heralded. The wood smoke smelled acrid in her lungs. Instead of comforting warmth, the scent reminded her of death and impending winter.

Katniss hugged herself against the chill as she knelt beside her mother’s and Haymitch’s graves. How hurt they would be to know what was happening. As much as she missed them, a small part of her was grateful they weren’t here to see it.

She rose to walk back to the trading post, but when she reached the gate, she noticed three riders coming from the south. Her melancholy lifted when she recognized Annie’s blonde head, and knew it was Finnick on the horse beside her. The third rider, an officer according to his uniform, for some reason seemed familiar though she couldn’t place him. Earlier in the year, she and Peeta had been invited to a party hosted by the Odairs, which had been attended by all the Army officers in their region, so she tried to place which one he might be from memory of that get-together.

When her sister and brother-in-law arrived at the trading post, she was stunned to see who had accompanied them. Annie dismounted first and gave her sister a hug as Katniss looked over her shoulder at none other than Captain Gale Hawthorne.

She flinched when she felt Peeta’s hand come to rest on her shoulder. Somehow, the idea of the two men in one place didn’t coexist well in her mind. Peeta’s warm, welcoming smile faltered just a bit as recognition from many years ago dawned on him.

“Peeta,” Finnick said, “Let me introduce you to an old friend of ours from back in St. Louis…”

The easy-going countenance was back as Peeta held out his hand to Gale. “I remember Captain Hawthorne from Fort John back in ’44. You were still a lieutenant then. And a friend of Katniss’s.”

Katniss felt a queasiness in her stomach as she recalled the news clipping that had falsely announced her engagement and the pain it had caused Peeta. She slipped her arm around his waist.

“Well, that’s great,” Finnick said with a smile. “Gale was just assigned to Denver, and I wanted to introduce him around. It’s good to finally have a friendly face around here. We’re doing a tour of some of the Native settlements, and Mellark’s Farm was on the way.”

Annie took Katniss aside as the men chatted. “I hope it’s okay that we brought Gale here,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. “I know it must be a bit strange after all this time. And given what happened.”

Katniss thought about it. “No it’s fine. We parted on good terms. But it is a shock seeing him again way out here.” She took a breath and smiled at Annie. Regardless of their surprise guest, she was always thrilled to spend time with her sister. She turned to the men and asked, “Will you be staying the night?”

“If that’s alright,” Gale answered.

“Of course,” Peeta replied. “The bunk house is always available to our friends.”

Katniss knew her husband well enough to recognize just a hint of uncharacteristic formality in his tone. But he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and led their guests over to the corral so they could unsaddle their horses.

She couldn’t help compare the two men as Peeta offered to show Gale around their village. Gale, over six feet tall, slim, almost aristocratic in bearing. Whereas Peeta, several inches shorter, with the strong, stocky build of a man used to hard work. One dark of complexion whose passions could inflame her choler. The other golden like sunshine, whose steady warmth kindled a different kind of heat.

Having a friend from back home had put Finnick in a better mood. With so many people antagonistic towards him, Katniss could see how much it meant to her brother-in-law as he laughed and joked over supper.

Annie helped Katniss clean up after their meal, and while out of earshot of the men and with concern in her voice, she said, “We’re desperate for anyone to be on our side. With Cray’s authority slipping, Finnick feels the more soldiers he can win over with all the trouble with Thread and his militia mutts, the better.”

“Gale wasn’t exactly on the same page as us back in St. Louis. He never liked our brothers or what they represented,” Katniss replied. Katniss also couldn’t help recall Gale’s declaration of duty as an officer of the military. Because right now the Army was, at best, ambiguous in their support of the Indians.

“A lot has happened since then, Katniss. Being in the war, it changes people. And Finnick and I have been working on him,” she added with a sidewise grin.

Katniss considered her words and nodded. For all their sakes, she would do her best to help keep an open mind.

When they rejoined the men, she felt a spark of optimism when Gale sneered and said, “I don’t like this Thread fellow. He’s a zealot with little respect for authority.”

Finnick gave a vigorous nod. “He has his own agenda, and his notion about justice is very different than ours.”

Katniss wondered what Gale would consider to be justice. She’d seen and heard many different opinions here in Colorado on what it meant.

Trying to lighten the conversation, Finnick joked about how Annie was inviting attractive, eligible women to parties to introduce to Gale. “Maybe we can get this confirmed bachelor to settle down.”

Gale’s eyes flicked towards Katniss then down to the mug of tea in his hands. “It’s not really been a priority, and I think I have enough to focus on right now.” Then he gave a chuckle and added, “But I know better than to try to win an argument with an Everdeen woman.”

A flash of old irritation sparked in Katniss and she shot him a stern look, but was met with one that hinted at sadness just under the surface.

“That’s the spirit!” Finnick laughed. “We’ll get you turned into a domesticated man in no time.”

Katniss walked the three guests over to the bunk house as everyone prepared to settle in for the night. She asked about Thomas and Maggie and her sister joked that their cook was likely spoiling them while they were away. With Annie and Finnick inside, Gale reached to take her arm before she could return to the store.

“It’s good to see you again, Katniss,” he began. “All the time I was in Texas…”

“Gale…” she interrupted, shaking her head. She didn’t want to hear it.

He sighed. “Just tell me whether you’re happy or not, and I’ll let it go.”

“I am happy,” she answered. “Even though you were right when you predicted things wouldn’t be easy for me and my family. I followed my heart and that’s what’s made the struggles bearable.”

“You have great kids,” he said.

That brought a proud smile to her face, and put her at ease. “So you never found anyone else after I left?”

He smirked, “I didn’t say that. But a part of me kind of entertained the idea that one day you’d come back. But now that I’m here, I see the way you look at him, at your family. I never stood a chance, did I?”

“I hope you find that, too, Gale.” She said goodnight and crossed the yard to her home.

When she entered their room Peeta was already in bed. She followed his lead and slipped in beside him. Instead of blowing out the lantern, he rolled over on his side to face her. There was a wistful smile on his face as he brushed her hair from her shoulder. She found herself distracted by how the flickering light caught the tips of his eye lashes. How could they possibly be that long?

“Do you ever regret marrying me?” he asked, catching her by surprise.

She almost laughed at the absurdity, but there was an almost imperceptible vulnerability in his eyes that stopped her. Could this really have been on his mind? It stunned her that he would have any doubts after all this time.

An image flashed through her mind of a life she could have chosen, married to an officer sent out to confront men like her brothers, all the while living her cozy, genteel life of leisure back east, ignorant of all the need and suffering.

She reached for him and grazed her fingers down along the side of his face. “Never.”

“You could have had so much more,” he persisted. “I remember how that article in the newspaper described him: _‘the handsome officer from a prominent New Hampshire family who won the heart of the the Belle of St. Louis…’_ ”

Katniss laughed softly. “That wasn’t real. This is.” Her fingers trailed along the rough stubble of his jawline and down the plains of his chest to rest over his heart.

But it needed further explanation. “I know I made the right choice everyday when you speak to our children in both our native tongues when they leave for school and when they come home. Because you remind them to remember and be proud of who they are when they go out into the world.”

She leaned in and captured his lower lip between hers, her tongue running over the slightly chapped surface. A small groan escaped Peeta’s mouth and he returned her kiss with equal passion.

When they pulled apart just enough to take a breath, she continued, “I love you because you have never once wavered in your convictions and have a compassionate heart.”

Katniss could feel his strong heartbeat as Peeta pulled her flush against his body.

“And you always made me believe with absolute certainty that you loved me even when I wasn’t sure what I needed or wanted.”

She bit her lip when she felt the hardness against her thigh and slipped her leg across his hip. His head dropped to her breast, and she released a sigh. Her hands savored the flexing contours of his back as he moved over her. She slid her fingers up to his chin and brought his face up to look at her.

“But most of all…” she said, her voice husky as she combed the ashy waves away from the beautiful eyes that she adored. “Most of all because no one has ever made me feel on fire the way you do.”

The rough calloused skin of his broad hands made her shiver as they trailed down her ribcage and over her hips. “Like you are doing right now,” she whispered with a smile.

When he brought his lips to hers, she kissed him with a need that he could not doubt.


	13. The Massacre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter was especially difficult for me. I had Michener’s adapted version to use as a starting point (which was upsetting enough), but researching the actual event, the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864, added to the horror. I have changed some of the details, such as the location, but all of the despicable acts included here are examples I found from the historical record. It is only a sampling of the crimes that took place that day.
> 
> Colonel Thread (Frank Skimmerhorn in ‘Centennial’) is based on the real-life militia leader, Colonel John Chivington.

**Chapter 13 - The Massacre (1864)**

A rush of frosty air met Katniss as she stepped outside the store, water pail in hand. It was the first Saturday in November, which meant the children didn’t have school, but it was still a work day for the trading post.

Juniper and Hunter were inside clearing away breakfast dishes. Around back of the store, she could hear the sound of the ax as Sage topped up the pile of firewood. She brushed her hand across David’s shoulder as he gathered up the canvas sheets that covered the goods on display outside the door. Their animals fed, Peeta walked across the yard to unlatch the gates to signal that they were open for business.

She had just filled the pail at the well when she noticed how her husband remained motionless by the stockade wall, his head down looking at something.

“Peeta?” she called, and when he turned she saw a piece of paper in his hands. Even from this distance she recognized the tension in his shoulders as he gripped the page. “Oh no,” she murmured to herself.

“What is it, Mama?” David asked as he folded up a large piece of canvas. His head darted toward Peeta as he stomped back to the store.

Peeta handed Katniss the paper and with a frown said, “This was nailed to the gate.”

Hearing his father, Sage came over, and he and David stood on either side of their mother to read the paper. The younger children drew close to see what was up, too. Katniss’s jaw dropped.

It was a declaration of martial law, ordering all Indians in the area to relocate immediately to a single location near the Rattlesnake Buttes, where Grey Cloud had set up his camp. Only those who were in the designated spot would be considered ‘friendly’ and would be guaranteed safety. Failure to do so would be seen as an act of aggression and any Indian who did not comply would be shot on sight. It was signed by the territorial governor.

“They’re telling hundreds of people who are already starving, to crowd into an even smaller place?” Katniss cried. “By doing this, they are giving them no choice but to disobey in order to feed themselves!”

“It may also be a way to isolate the militant factions who are defying the treaty,” Peeta said. “Separate them from Grey Cloud and any other chiefs who’ve complied.”

It had been several weeks since she’d seen Frank and Matt when she and Annie had unexpectedly run into them at Grey Cloud’s camp. They, and the other men riding with them, had brought in meat, likely poached from farms in the area to help feed the villagers. They continued to call for war against the ever-increasing oppression.

Grey Cloud had spoken softly, his eyes saddened by the turn of events as the cycle of violence continued to deepen. He declared that the days of fighting their enemies were over. It didn’t placate Frank, who ranted at the chief for his lack of action. Matt sat back, lost in his own troubled thoughts.

Her brothers had warned against signing the first treaty in 1851 and were incensed by the imposed revision ten years later. She could only imagine how this latest news would inflame their resolve. Reading this notice, it was ever more difficult for Katniss to find it within herself to tell them to not fight back. Word was that they were now fighting with Cheyenne warriors somewhere in eastern Colorado or western Kansas.

“How can the governor do this?” Sage asked, his face screwed up with incredulity. “Even the federal government’s own treaty says the Arapaho and Cheyenne have rights to lands beyond that.”

Peeta’s eyes narrowed. “He’s bowing to political pressure. Every time the newspaper reports on another theft or attack by Indians, settlers call for retaliation.”

“Never mind that when the reverse is true, when Indian villages or hunting parties are attacked, they conveniently fail to print that story,” Katniss responded.

Peeta nodded, and added, “Or that many of the chiefs never agreed to the revised treaty in the first place.”

“This has Thread’s stench all over it,” Katniss said. Though she’d never met the man, she’d read his editorial submissions to the newspaper. Between the hate he spewed and what her sister and brother-in-law had revealed, she had learned enough to form a clear opinion. “Finnick must be beside himself.”

“Can Uncle Finnick do anything?” David asked.

“Other than urge the governor to reconsider, to go against the will of the people in Denver?” Peeta answered with a shake of his head. “He can’t count on Cray to back him, and the government back east is preoccupied with the war.”

She knew Peeta well enough to see that he shared her doubt that there was anything Finnick or Cray could do against the juggernaut of opposition they faced.

“And why post the notice here?” Sage asked. “There haven’t been any Indians come to trade in ages, not with the way things have been.”

“I think it’s a warning to us, too,” Peeta replied, exchanging a grim look with Katniss.

Over the next few weeks, Grey Cloud’s camp swelled by hundreds. Conditions were desperate, and the chief’s resolute voice calling for commitment to peace became lost as his people suffered. Even within the village of Mellark’s Farm, Katniss sensed the emergence of unease from the other residents when they shopped at their store. Peeta tried to tell her it was motivated by fear, but she’d seen enough over the years to know that, behind their polite words, many would be secretly grateful to see the Indian threat eradicated.

Business was slow the last Monday in November, and Peeta told the boys to close up for the day, even though it was early afternoon. Katniss could feel more than chill in the air, a portent of things to come, and apparently so did Peeta. A part of Katniss sighed with relief every day when the gates were bolted shut. But just as Peeta and Sage were preparing to pull the gates closed, Finnick came galloping in, his horse covered in foamy sweat, and the man disheveled from a hard ride. Whatever had been going on in the previous weeks since the notice had been posted, the situation had just become worse.

“Cray’s been recalled to Fort Leavenworth to explain his ineffective leadership in curtailing the Indian problem,” he announced. “It appears that Thread does indeed have friends in high places.”

“But who’s in charge?” Sage asked. Finnick looked ashen as he grimaced.

Katniss reached out to grab Peeta’s arm to steady herself. It couldn’t be true! Without even Cray’s ineffective command, there would be nothing standing in the colonel’s way.

“Thread?” Peeta asked. Finnick shook his head with disgust, unable to speak. “Take care of Uncle Finnick’s horse,” Peeta said to Sage, and the sixteen-year-old gathered the reins and led the animal toward the corral.

Katniss told the other children to go inside and set another place at the table for supper. With the children busy, Finnick spoke in furtive tones.

“With both the army and militia now under Thread’s control, I need to get word to Grey Cloud, to warn him. There will be no restraint if the military comes up against even the hint of resistance.”

A cynical laugh escaped Katniss’s throat. “Finnick, you know as well as I do that the people in the encampment have nothing to defend themselves with against the military. They haven’t even been allowed to buy bullets for their hunting rifles in case they might use them against homesteaders. At best, they have their hunting bows. And most of their men of fighting age have joined the chiefs who are part of the resistance.”

Finnick’s shoulders slumped. “I know, Katniss. It may be the only thing that protects them. If they can’t fight, there’s less chance for… misunderstanding. But even that small amount of arms could be dangerous. It won’t matter if it’s just to feed themselves. If the militia tracks down any armed hunting parties, let alone encounters the warriors who are actively at war with them, it will be all the justification Thread needs.”

He ran his hands over his weary face. “What have we come to? I’ve called for restraint, thinking I was acting in the tribes’ best interests and this is how the chiefs have been rewarded for listening to me.” The self-loathing in his voice moved Katniss to hug her brother-in-law.

Peeta was about to finish closing the gate when he called out to them, alarmed, “Riders coming in.”

Katniss and Finnick rushed to the entrance to see over a dozen men in militia uniforms approaching with haste. They stormed into the yard, nearly running over the three where they stood.

In the lead was a man who sat tall on his horse. Katniss estimated him to be well over six feet in height. His uniform bore the insignia of his rank, but it was the commanding authority and seething anger in his sneer as he addressed them from his saddle that gave him away. Colonel Thread. It made Katniss’s skin crawl watching his thin lips pulled tight over his teeth as he jeered at them.

“How surprising to discover you here, Odair!” he spat sardonically. “But then, given that you’re actually married to the family that spawned the Everdeen devils, I expected no less than to find you running off to consort with the enemy.”

Finnick stepped forward, his eyes wide with outrage, “What the hell are you talking about?!  
“Might I remind you, that I am serving here in the capacity of Indian Agent. It is my job to ‘consort’ with the tribes, to settle any grievances, to be an impartial…”

He never finished the thought as he was cut off by Tread waving his arm. “Arrest Major Odair,” he ordered, prompting several of his men to quickly dismount.

“On what charge?” Finnick demanded indignantly.

Two of the men grabbed Finnick by the arms and restrained him. “For failing to protect the lives and property of innocent settlers, along with that impotent General Cray. For the crime of collaborating with the enemy and treason, you are to be taken back to Denver and placed under arrest until the matter of the Indian threat is contained.”

At the aggressive move and accusation, Peeta stepped forward, his voice remarkably calm given the situation. Katniss was grateful the children weren’t close by. “Major Odair is here to help keep the peace…”

Thread directed his glare to Peeta and snarled, “I am familiar with your close ties to the Everdeen butchers, too, Mellark. I’m placing everyone inside your trading post under house arrest as well…”

“You can’t be serious,” Peeta snapped. “What possible crime has been committed here?”

Thread swung his horse around so that it nearly collided with Peeta, causing him to reach out to grab the horse’s reins to keep from being trampled.

One look in Thread’s eyes and Katniss knew this wasn’t the expression of a belligerent man. She’d hunted enough to recognize the difference between a mere predator and the rabid eye of a sick and demented creature. Any attempts to engage the man in a rational exchange were pointless.

“Peeta,” she warned, and slipped between him and the mounted colonel. She gripped his arm and, with her back to Thread, whispered, “Don’t!” pouring all her fear into the utterance. Her husband’s eyes locked on hers as he read her expression.

Thread’s booming voice dripped venom as he hissed, “You should listen to your fucking squaw, Mellark. At least she knows her place.”

What happened next stunned Katniss. Her sharp hunter’s reflex vanished as she watched, almost out of body, as Peeta swept her aside and lunged at Thread. It was rare that her husband ever took her by surprise, and as she caught a glance of Finnick, restrained by the soldiers, she saw that he was caught off-guard as well.

Before any of Thread’s men could make a move, Peeta had their commander by the front of his uniform. The colonel was much bigger, but Peeta, always so powerful, hauled him from his horse.

“You son of bitch!” Peeta uttered through clenched teeth. To hear her husband so enraged left Katniss strangely paralyzed, watching the spectacle unfold before her. Thread’s men may have been caught flat-footed, but the colonel’s military instinct kicked in as he fell. His face was red with humiliation and hate as he drew his sword from its scabbard in the fraction of a second it took him to fall to the ground.

Peeta, armed with only his hands and his temper, was no match for the steel of Thread’s blade and it lashed out, finally breaking Katniss’s paralysis as she screamed Peeta’s name. The saber hit its target, once, twice, and Peeta collapsed to the ground, blood spreading outward from the wounds inflicted on his upper thigh and forearm. Katniss fell to the ground at his side pressing her hands against the flow of blood, gasping for breath.

A second later she saw a flash of blue calico beside her. She and Peeta reached out at the same time to grab Sage as he charged Thread, who was rising to his feet.

“No!” Katniss hissed and pulled her son down beside her. The sight of Peeta’s blood in the form of her red handprint on Sage’s sleeve made her gasp, but she managed to demand, “Help me,” placing his hands over his father’s wounded leg, while Peeta grasped his bleeding arm. A quick glance back to the store revealed David standing in front of his younger siblings, shielding them from the sight, terror in his eyes.

A defiant resolve brought Katniss to her feet, driven by a primal need to protect her family. She placed her body in front of her son and husband and faced Thread. The colonel had a foot of height and at least a hundred pounds on her, but there was so much fury in her gasping breath that she could have been breathing fire.

An unspoken threat found its way to her eyes as she locked them on Thread. _I’ll kill you, if you come any closer_ , it warned.

He sneered down at her, mocking her with a twisted half smile as if she wasn’t worth his consideration, declaring that she was beneath him. He re-sheathed his sword and turned to his men.

In his deep baritone, he announced so that all within proximity of the trading post could hear, “You are witness to the attack by the traitor Mellark!” He indicated to several of his men. “You’re ordered to stand guard until further notice. Anyone seen leaving this trading post is to be shot without hesitation.”

He turned back toward Katniss as she remained standing over her husband and son, fingernails digging into the flesh of her clenched palms. “Is that clear?” he snarled.

Thread gave the order to his men that Finnick be placed on a horse to be taken back to Denver. “When Odair is in custody, return to the rendezvous spot as planned,” he barked.

Finnick barely had the chance to exchange a distressed look with Katniss as he was led out the gate. Less than a minute later, Thread and his troop, with the exception of four militia men standing guard, were gone, and the stockade gates bolted from the outside.

Katniss dropped back down to Peeta’s side. “Can you walk?”

Peeta nodded. She took one of his arms as Sage took the other, and they helped Peeta to his feet to lead him back to the store. Her heart sank when she saw the faces of her other children waiting there. David was choking back angry tears. Juniper stood stoically, but there was blue fire in her eyes, too. Hunter saw the blood pouring from his father’s wounds and started to cry.

When they got Peeta to their bed, Katniss grabbed one of her petticoats, bundled it up and pressed it against the more serious thigh injury to stanch the flow of blood. The younger children stood huddled by the bedroom door watching in silence. With Sage’s help they removed Peeta’s trousers and Peeta rolled up his shirt sleeve. After a quick inspection, Katniss called for Juniper to fetch her sewing kit.

“The arm doesn’t look too deep. But I’ll have to stitch the thigh closed,” she explained, surprised by the sense of calm detachment that came over her. She cleaned the wounds, stitched Peeta’s leg and bandaged both his injuries.

As night descended, Katniss instructed the family to prepare a supper. Alone with Peeta, Katniss smoothed back his hair and, with a weak grin, said, “I thought you didn’t support acts of violence.”

Peeta winced, “Not my proudest moment for all the good it did. When he said what he did… I just snapped.”

She took his face in her hands. “You made me proud coming to my defense, but Thread’s worse than a wild animal.” She tensed. “If I’d had my bow…”

He looked alarmed. “Thank God you didn’t. He’d have killed you. I was very lucky to get away with just this,” he tipped his head at the bandaged leg. He closed his eyes for a second. “Thread rides into the Indian village the way he came here, and anyone there won’t help but respond to protect their families. I guess I just got a taste of that.”

“Finnick’s right,” Katniss said in a controlled voice. “We have to get word to Grey Cloud for him, warn the chief and the rest who are in that camp.”

Peeta sat up and gripped her arm. “I know what you’re thinking and I’m not letting you do this. The guards will kill anyone caught trying to leave.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to not get caught,” she huffed with stubborn resolution.

“I’ll go in the morning…” Peeta retorted.

“You’re in no condition,” she answered.

Peeta frowned, and then took a deep breath. Emboldened, she continued. “Peeta, if it’ll help save any lives, warning them to not give any reason for Thread to act, isn’t it worth it?”

He remained silent, worry in his eyes. Katniss added, “Maybe we’ve reached a point where we all haven’t got any choice.”

“Let me go, Mama.”

Katniss looked over her shoulder, startled to see Sage standing at the bedroom door. She got up from the bed and embraced him. She gazed at her handsome son, tall with his dark hair and the high cheekbones that spoke of his Indian heritage.

“No. It’s best if I go. I need you to look after the family with your father hurt. If they saw you, they might take you for a brave who’s defying the governor’s notice. As a woman, I may have a better chance if encountered. It’s less likely they’d see me as dangerous.”

She turned back to Peeta as it dawned on her. “I can’t take my bow.” He nodded in understanding. It wouldn’t be much help if she ran into trouble anyway.

It was decided that leaving under cover of dark was the best option. The older boys insisted they could distract the guards so that their mother could slip over the stockade walls on the west side. But the next problem was procuring a horse since all of theirs were inside the trading post.

Juniper offered a solution. Spying over the stockade wall from the lookout she said the guards’ horses were left to graze by the river where there was still some dry grass. The guards weren’t overly-experienced or disciplined, and were gathered by the gate far enough away that Katniss could sneak past.

“They won’t be riding anywhere,” Peeta said. “You could take one and they might not even notice. Or they’d think that maybe it wandered off.”

“I can get to the Rattlesnake Buttes by morning,” Katniss said. “I’ll be back by nightfall tomorrow at the latest.” It was going to be a very long day without any sleep, but her adrenaline was running high.

She’d have to ride bareback as managing to get a heavy saddle down to the river and onto the back of an unfamiliar horse would make stealth difficult. Juniper went to fetch a bridle while Katniss changed into a pair of David’s pants and slipped into Peeta’s brown coat. It was way too big, but it was dark in color and warm and smelled like him. It was a good choice. Juniper gathered some food and a water canteen for her to take. Katniss tucked her braided hair into a hat and hugged her children. And then she knelt beside the bed to say goodbye to Peeta.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” he said.

“I promise,” she said and managed to force a smile. “I’ll be back before you miss me.”

Peeta gave her an incredulous snort, but reached up to pull her into an embrace. When he gave her a hard, quick kiss, she lingered against his lips a few seconds longer, memorizing the sensation. Then she nodded at her sons, and they crossed the yard with an offering of food to distract the guards.

Katniss climbed on top of some crates piled against the west wall. Juniper handed her a small ladder which she used to climb down the outside. It had snowed recently, but there were enough tracks that she hoped her escape would go unnoticed. Once the ladder was stowed behind some discarded barrels she slinked south and then cut through the trees to the river. She selected the least skittish horse and clicking gently to the creature, slipped the bridle over its head. Riding into the darkness, heading north then east, she whispered her gratitude for the cloudless night sky and moonlight that provided just enough visibility to navigate.

Pale streaks of dawn greeted Katniss by the time she reached the hill that bordered Grey Cloud’s camp. The same hill on which, back in the summer of 1844, Peeta had teased her. Back when she was first getting to know this new partner in the trading post they would all build together. She closed her eyes, reliving the memory.

 _Better be careful and stay where I can see you,_ she’d warned him, bow in hand. _Wild animals come out when it starts to get dark._

 _What’s to fear? I’ve got you to protect me,_ he’d chuckled, but promised he wouldn’t go far.

She’d given a little snort in reply, and then something in the twinkle in his eye had made her break out with rare laughter as she patted his pony’s neck. She could still see the grin on his face that had made her flush with pride.

How could they have known all the changes that life would bring to them back on that fateful day? She allowed herself a moment of nostalgia, closed her eyes, remembering her parents, Delly, but also how she had felt a moment of peace in the world, so vast and intimate at the same time.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, opened her eyes and was about to nudge her horse over the crest of the hill and down into the sleeping village when her heart dropped into her stomach. She slid from the mare’s back and pulled her back down the hill out of view. Because they weren’t alone.

She crawled on her hands and knees back to the crest of the hill and scanned to the south. She breathed a sigh of gratitude that she had managed to approach from such a close angle without detection.

Before her, lined up on the south slope, were cannons. Behind the cannons were maybe seven hundred mounted soldiers, though it was difficult to tell in the faint morning light. The air was frosty, giving a veiled appearance to anything in the further distance. The distinctive figure of Thread sat on his horse with the large central group clustered near the cannons. There was a flank of men to his left, located closest to her. These two groups had the careless look of militia.

The misty air lifted as the sun breached the horizon and she saw the flank furthest to the east. She saw the dark blue uniforms of regular army soldiers intermixed with militia, waiting on horseback. Even at this distance one form stood out from the rest. Recently reacquainted, she’d recognize the way he sat on his horse from anywhere. Gale.

Katniss tried to sort it out in her mind. The army now under Thread’s control, the cannons, the overwhelming military presence gathered at the site of a defenseless population, but the reality refused to compute.

“I’m too late to warn them,” she murmured. But at least this was a peaceful camp, under the protective order of the governor. She could only hope that the people here would understand that to take any action against this colonel would be futile. And that Thread would be convinced of the lack of threat they posed and leave them in peace.

But it didn’t matter, because the call of the bugle rang out and everything went to hell before her eyes.

The first cannon struck in the middle of the camp. This brought men, women and children from their tipis scrambling in panic. Katniss could see Grey Cloud rushing out to the front of his tipi in confusion holding an American flag, a gift from President Lincoln himself at the signing of the revised treaty. He waved it to signal that they had no hostile intent. Other men joined him with white flags. But a second cannon was fired. When the third cannon struck, Thread ordered his men in the center group to attack. On horseback the militia swept down with swords drawn and rifles firing.

The camp of close to eight hundred people was largely populated with older men, women and children. Katniss could only speculate that the younger men were likely gone to try to hunt. Or had joined up with the resistance that Frank and Matt supported. A few men armed only with bows tried to make a stand, but they were no match.

The signal came for the left flank to attack, and anyone trying to escape toward Katniss was intercepted. Right in front of her she witnessed the carnage, each act of cruelty building on the last. Fired by an unspeakable bloodlust, the soldiers were not content with merely killing. Atrocities were committed against both the dead and the living as Katniss saw it unfold. People holding their arms up in surrender, pleading, but there was no mercy. She clamped her hands over her mouth, the scream trapped in her throat, her limbs frozen, first in fear and then in horror.

 _It’s not personal,_ Gale had told her once so long ago.

The memory brought her eyes to the right flank where he and his men sat like statues on their horses. There were people running in his direction, trying to flee for their lives hoping to find refuge in the buttes to the east.

Thread barked an order at a young private, when the bugle call signaling his order to attack went unanswered. The private galloped up the hillside to the waiting right flank. Once his message was delivered to Gale, the private returned to his commander. But still the right flank held position and more desperate villagers slipped by them. Thread bellowed with rage and the private was dispatched a second time. But this time when the rider reached Gale, he slipped from his horse and began to retch on the ground. This time he stayed with the right flank as the slaughter raged on.

Once again, Gale and the men under his command remained in place.

Gasping for breath, Katniss’s body shuddered as she huddled on the ground. Hot tears threatened to cloud her eyes and spill down her cheeks, but in anger she swiped them away. She refused to not see it. These atrocities must be witnessed. All the dead, the suffering, these people deserved to be remembered.

_It’s not personal._

But all Katniss saw were the faces of her loved ones below her. The elderly woman, whose breasts were hacked off while she was still alive, bore her mother’s face.

The men armed with bows who had attempted to defend the village, were peppered with gunshot. The soldiers descended on their bloody corpses, slicing off body parts; scalps, ears, noses, even genitals, and waved them in the air as trophies. She recognized her brothers in their mutilated bodies.

She saw Peeta in the man bleeding out from hacked off limbs as he tried to protect his wife, her pregnant belly sliced open with a saber.

But it was the children most of all. In their innocent faces and defenseless bodies she saw her own children. Adolescents run down by horses, trampled and scalped. A young girl dragging her younger brother away only to have him fall as a bullet ripped into his little body. Her wailing for him to get up and run while Thread gave his orders. The militia men beside him took turns target shooting with their rifles, missing, until in frustration, Thread himself fired the kill shot on the girl.

She saw the little babies, gathered together, screaming in terror as they were slaughtered and left in a heap.

 _Do you remember, Gale?_ her mind called across to him in her despair. _When I told you that it was personal to me? Do you understand now?_

Gale was too far away to see her, especially as she was crouched down in her dark clothing. But something prompted her to rise to her feet. The soldiers were so preoccupied with perpetrating their evil that none of them noticed her.

By sight, she couldn’t be sure at such a distance, but somehow she knew. The way his head turned in her direction across the field. He could recognize her as well as she could him.

Katniss lifted her chin, her face screwed up in pain. “Who’s the savage now, Gale?” she uttered across the span. She thought she saw an uncharacteristic slump in his shoulders as the truth wafted over them along with the smoke as tipis burned and the screams of the dying filled the air.

 

Katniss took no special care as she made her way home in the daylight. She was too distraught to try and hide. Besides, Thread and his men would be so distracted with reveling in their great victory today to notice a lone rider crossing the prairie.

She was in no hurry. She knew it was the best strategy to arrive at night. Thread and his men might be oblivious, but his guards at the trading post weren’t likely to be so preoccupied. She sat hunched over, tears locked in her eyes by the anger that burned in her chest, as the mare plodded her way west. By midday, the glare of the bright sun on the thin layer of snow burned her eyes, so she stopped and took shelter in the mare’s shadow and tried to rest. Only to find that the images burning in her brain were far worse.

As the day wore on, mental and physical exhaustion took its toll leaving her numb. But as the sun fell behind the mountains, an urgent need to get home prompted her to pick up the pace. It was dark by the time she released the mare and slipped undetected back over the stockade walls. Heaving a deep sigh, she hauled the ladder inside, dropped it on the ground and made her way to the store.

Despite almost forty hours without sleep, she crept inside on hunter’s feet, guided by the soft flicker of lamplight to the living quarters. Katniss slipped off Peeta’s coat and hung it on the hook by the door. She found her husband asleep in an armchair with his injured leg propped up on a stool. She gazed at him briefly. She would need him, but first there was something else she had to do before she could accept his comfort.

Another lamp was burning in the first bedroom, casting such a warm glow that Katniss stood at the door and soaked in the sight of her boys. Hunter’s bed was untouched. Instead he was snuggled up beside Sage who had fallen asleep with his old storybook, now Hunter’s, laying across his chest. On the other side of the night table that held the lamp lay David. His wavy hair, so much like his father’s, was mussed and hanging in his eyes as he softly snored.

They looked so peaceful and Katniss was scared to wake them. Because then she would have to explain what she had seen. What she wanted was one more night to protect them from the nightmare. But her need to touch them, reassure herself was too strong, so she crept over to Sage’s bed and, with a delicate hand, lifted the book from his chest and placed it beside the lamp.

“Mama?” Sage whispered.

She turned back and hoped her smile didn’t give away the ache in her heart. She gave his hand a squeeze and kissed the top of Hunter’s head.

“Shh. Don’t wake the others. Go back to sleep. It’s late.”

But the sound of stirring made her turn and there was David, propped up on one elbow, rubbing his eyes.

“Did you warn them?” he asked.

Katniss clenched her eyes shut for a second and leaning over her middle son, she eased him back down and pulled the blanket up around his shoulders. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay? Just sleep now.”

He nodded and closed his eyes as she smoothed the unruly hair back from his forehead. One last glance at Sage and Hunter, and she blew out the lantern.

The next bedroom was much smaller, and there was no lantern lit here. Instead the faint moon glow shone in through the window, casting its cool silver light over her daughter’s face. Juniper looked small and pale, and Katniss was so struck with the spectral quality of the scene that she fell to her knees beside the bed and lay her head close to her daughter’s. Juniper’s warm breath bathed her face, and the anxiety that had propelled her through the day began to melt away.

She closed her eyes as the broad hand came to rest on her shoulder. She’d heard the uneven shuffle come up behind her and managed a smile. Without turning, she placed her hand on top of his.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet,” she whispered.

Without a word, Peeta lifted her to her feet, and she buried her face in his chest for a moment. She was beginning to grow unsteady from weariness, but she placed Peeta’s arm across her shoulders and he leaned heavily on her as he limped back to their bedroom.

Peeta tried to stifle a groan as he collapsed onto their bed. Katniss turned her attention to his leg to inspect his injury, but he stopped her and pulled her down onto the bed beside him.

“It’s fine,” he said. “You’re back, that’s all that matters.”

She allowed herself a moment to relax in the safety and comfort of his arms, delaying the inevitable that must be faced.

“Did you see Grey Cloud? Did you get the message to him?”

The dam holding back her despair broke and Katniss started to cry. Her whole body was wracked with tremors as Peeta whispered words of assurance and rubbed his hand in slow circles across her back. Between jagged, gasping cries she told him all that she had seen. Peeta used his shirt sleeve to wipe her face as all the horror poured out, his own face contorted with pain and revulsion at what he heard.

When she was done Katniss sucked in a ragged breath and gasped, “Don’t tell me it’s going to be okay.” Then she rolled away, her back to him, and curled into a tight ball.

Peeta answered by reaching down to draw the buffalo robe up and over them. He pulled Katniss close, cocooning her within his arms as if to guard against the nightmarish revelation of the day. Soothed by his enveloping warmth and the way he rocked them both, her soft whimpers eventually gave way to the fatigue, and Katniss fell into merciful, dreamless sleep.


	14. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and her family and friends fight for justice in the aftermath of the massacre. But will standing up against Thread have consequences?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful to (on tumblr) finduilasnumenesse, titaniasfics and papofglencoe for always finding time in your busy schedules to be my Beta-readers. Thank you bethylark for answering my questions about Native American culture. You are all amazing!
> 
> The gorgeous banners were created by the talented otrascosasseries and loving-mellark. Thank you!
> 
> Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has left a comment or kudo. I can't tell you how important it is, and how your encouragement gives me energy as I complete the final chapters of Wildflower. <3!

**Chapter 14 - Aftermath (December 1864 - Spring, 1865)**

A heavy snowfall draped Denver in a shroud of silence as Katniss and her family made their way to the Odairs’ home. Given that it was New Year’s Eve, Katniss had braced herself, expecting streets filled with people reveling in their deliverance from the Indian menace in time for the holidays.

December had been a dark month for the Mellarks. Two days after the massacre, when they awoke in the morning, they found out that the men assigned with guarding their trading post had vanished.

“I guess we aren’t worth the trouble, now that the enemy has been defeated,” an indignant Sage informed his parents after making the discovery. Peeta was still recuperating, and Katniss sat wrapped in a blanket by the fire. She was too despondent to reply.

The next day, the front page of the Denver newspaper reported how Colonel Thread’s forces had bravely defeated a great army of dangerous and hostile Indians as they were mobilizing for attack. The deceitful account led to fevered discussion as people heaped their praise on the colonel for finally addressing the threat. Unchallenged by reports to the contrary, Thread’s popularity grew. The people celebrated his victory, some in ignorance, but many in collusion with his hate.

It was only out of fear for the safety of her family that Katniss insisted none of them reveal what she had witnessed. If it ever got back to Thread that she had been present for his attack at Rattlesnake Buttes, she could only imagine how it might impact them. People were so inflamed as it was, there was no telling how her revelation would be received.

But it didn’t stop Sage from casting doubt when talk filtered into the store. He retorted with a rhetorical question, “If the Indians were planning such an attack, why would they so willingly gather as directed, in the exact place indicated by the governor?”

The residents of Mellark’s Farm didn’t have an answer. Katniss could tell from his grin that Peeta shared her pride in their clever son’s ability to introduce logic into the one-sided conversations.

A week later, Thread submitted his own account to the newspaper, filled with humble rhetoric that made Katniss’s skin crawl. He made a snide dig against Gale Hawthorne, suggesting that taking on Colorado’s Indian problems may not be the best assignment for the Army officer. At first glance, the editorial’s swipe at Gale sounded almost benign to Katniss, and she didn’t put much thought in how Thread interpreted Gale’s actions, given the colonel’s nature.

But Peeta shook his head and insisted there was more to it. Why even bring it up? Why draw attention to something that only brought potential embarrassment on his self-proclaimed victory? Thread was concerned, Peeta deduced. He wanted Gale discredited. And Peeta suspected it was Thread’s way of putting out any possible fires before they began.

Because Thread knew what Katniss knew: the colonel had slaughtered the helpless. His avowed enemy, the Cheyenne and Arapaho warriors to which her brothers belonged, had been nowhere in sight. They were still very much alive, which meant the war with the Indians was far from over. And if someone like Gale came forward, contradicting the official account, the truth wouldn’t be so favorable for the colonel.

Perhaps the snow kept the people of Denver inside the night 1864 came to a close. Or maybe it was that they were beginning to hear rumors spoken with hushed voices that didn’t quite mesh with their hero’s account. Maybe the fine people of Denver were silent because they suspected Thread had spouted his victory a little too soon.

When the Odairs had sent word to Mellark’s Farm inviting them to spend New Years with them, no one was in the mood for celebrating, but Katniss and Peeta were eager to find out what was truly going on. After their long wagon ride to Denver, Annie welcomed them inside, and once the door was closed, she hugged Katniss with comforting arms.

“We’ve heard all the horrible details,” she whispered, and Katniss was about to ask how she could possibly know when Gale entered the front hall from the parlor.

“Gale filled us in on what really happened, Katniss. Including seeing you there,” Finnick explained.

Annie directed Thomas and Maggie to help their Mellark cousins settle into their rooms upstairs. She smiled and said there were Christmas gifts for each of them as well. With the children occupied, the adults moved into the parlor and, when they were seated, conversation turned to Thread and the massacre.

Annie spoke first. “We must find a way to get the word out. We can’t let this slaughter be buried,” she asserted. “I’ve tried to refute Thread and his hateful editorials, but it’s been useless. Either no one will hear me, or Thread and his supporters fight back even harder.”

Annie passed that day’s newspaper to Katniss and Peeta. Thread gave credit to his men, the First Regiment of Colorado Volunteers, saying that it was due to their tenacity and skill that they had suffered so few causalities. Thread described how the gallant militia had won despite the disappointing performance of the army troops under the command of Captain Hawthorne. He proclaimed that ‘the Yale-educated snob masquerading as a soldier should return to New Hampshire where it’s safe and leave defending Colorado to courageous men who are up to the challenge.’

Gale’s eyes couldn’t meet Katniss’s. His finger traced back and forth across the edge of the teacup in his hand, the tea long grown cold. He was, at the least, being called incompetent and, at worst, a coward. But his failure to follow orders was, so far, not being called into question.

“I don’t think Thread wants any facts to slip out,” Gale said. “If he accuses me of insubordination, there would have to be a court martial. He hopes that he can buy my silence by keeping that charge against me off the record in exchange for my resignation.”

Peeta nodded at the confirmation of his suspicions, but Annie became incensed.

“You can’t resign, Gale! Your career in the military will be ruined. What about justice? You must speak out!”

“To what end, Annie?” Gale replied. “You’ve seen how Thread controls the message. Any attempt to defend either me or Finnick have simply given him reason to respond with more vitriol. So far he’s winning the debate in the papers and on the streets of Denver. If I persist, you can be sure the truth will be lost as Thread focuses his attack on my character. We know he has powerful people behind him. How else could a militia colonel unseat a professional army general like Cray?”

His voice turned bitter. “As for my career… I’m finished either way.”

Finnick leaned forward, “All the more reason to fight. If you have nothing to lose.”

Gale heaved a sigh. He nodded. “You know what’s the worst part about Thread’s accusations against me? It will get back to General Heavensbee. He was the one who recommended that I be promoted to Captain after the war with Mexico. I can only imagine how disappointing it will be for him to read that someone who served with him has fallen so far from the good standard he set.”

“Wait,” Annie interrupted. “Did you say General Heavensbee? As in Colonel Plutarch Heavensbee, from back in St. Louis?”

Gale nodded, “He was made a general when the war with the South began.”

A smirk formed on Annie’s face. “I remember him. He attended many of mother’s parties. I think he may have even been a little sweet on her at one time.” Katniss could see a conspiratorial glint in her sister’s eyes. “I could write to him. I’m sure out of respect for my mother, he might listen to us. Maybe we can get the ear of people who have the real power to do something.”

“Mama, look!” Juniper cried out from the parlor entrance.

Everyone turned and were met with the wide grins and flushed cheeks of Juniper and Maggie wearing matching dresses. They were made out of a diaphanous fabric over generous petticoats, white with tiny floral print, and trimmed in lace at the neck and sleeves. The only difference was the color of the print and ribbon detailing. Maggie’s was a peridot green while Juniper’s was azure blue. It made her daughter’s eyes sparkle, though Katniss wasn't entirely certain if it was the fabric or the pure joy radiating from her face.

“Aren’t you two pretty!” Katniss gushed. Juniper came up to her mother for closer inspection. “It’s such a lovely dress.” She smiled and reached out to touch the delicate fabric. “Though I’m not sure how practical it is,” Katniss added. “We don’t have many occasions for such fancy things at the trading post.”

She saw Juniper’s smile falter ever so slightly. “You’ll have to be very careful,” she added and Juniper nodded her head vigorously. “I promise, Mama.”

Annie laughed. “Remember when we would get dressed up, Katniss? All those parties and dances back in St. Louis?” She sighed and sounded almost apologetic as she explained her gift. “A girl deserves something pretty, even way out here. I had them specially made. I’m told it’s the latest fashion for this summer in New York.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about fashion, but you look like an angel,” Peeta grinned and held out his arms. “My beautiful girl,” he added when she gave him the hug.

“The lace is imported from Europe,” Annie explained, “but we can thank the Hawthorne family for the fabric since it was made in their mill in New Hampshire. Gale made a special request to his father on my behalf. With the war going on, it’s not easy to find such fine stuff.”

Gale shrugged off the mention, “I’m not an expert in my family’s business. I dreamed of being a soldier, fighting the good fight, being a part of strengthening our growing country and spreading the dream.” His face turned sour and his eyes became unfocused, lost in thought.

“Regardless, thank you for your help, Gale,” Katniss said to him. “There’s been so much tragedy, that anything that can bring a little happiness is appreciated, especially for the children.”

Gale looked up and she gave him a grateful smile. He glanced at Juniper and Maggie and nodded, but remained quiet as the rest of them fussed over the girls and how lovely they looked.

The five adults spent the final hours of the year composing a letter to General Heavensbee. Into the words they poured their hopes. Finnick could be released from house arrest, Gale could make his defense and, most importantly, they might be able to bring the atrocity at Rattlesnake Buttes to light.

Despite their initial optimism, conditions deteriorated as 1865 began. The massacre had galvanized hundreds of Cheyenne and Arapaho warriors, and there was no restraint as they brought down their vengeance. Thread and his supporters found new fuel for their hatred.

As the months wore on, the level of Indian resistance caused people to start to doubt Thread’s claims of ‘resounding success’ at Rattlesnake Buttes. The rumors of what had taken place back in November began to gain legitimacy, driving a wedge in popular opinion. Thread was quick to respond, and the newspaper gave him the platform to describe in horrifying detail the savagery committed by the Everdeen brothers and their cohorts. Public opinion was swayed back to his side.

Just when they began to lose hope, the Mellarks and Odairs learned, thanks to Annie’s letter, that the gears back east had in fact begun to turn, and it looked like they might get the inquiry they so desperately wanted. As expected, Thread responded with formal accusations against Gale, charging him with insubordination.

The combination of the escalating violence in the territory and the serious charges leveled at Colonel Thread, and now against Gale, inclined military leadership that they needed to get to the bottom of events.

But the bureaucracy was slow with the Civil War still being waged, and Thread took advantage. Desperate to get the Indian problem resolved once and for all before he had to face an inquiry, Thread and his men continued to scour the countryside in search of defiant Indian presence. It was imperative that the colonel prove the effectiveness of his leadership.

Another month passed as the death toll continued to spiral. Katniss knew the strength of the local military and the madness of the man who commanded it. Grey Cloud had been correct; the war her brothers were waging would, as the chief predicted, lead to death for his people. But she also understood her brothers assertions that complying with the white man had been disastrous for them, too.

Feeling desperate, Katniss pondered how to ignite flames of their own. Turning the tide of public opinion against Thread was the only kind of fire that might save lives. But still the fear of reprisal kept her from speaking openly about the truth. The more she ruminated, the more she realized the only solution lay with the pending inquiry. Though she wasn’t the illiterate seventeen-year-old from Fort John anymore, her sense of powerlessness served as a reminder that some things hadn’t changed at all.

Late one afternoon in March, Peeta entered the store after closing up the gates for the day. His face was strained as he held the latest edition of the Denver newspaper.

“I’m so sorry, Katniss,” he said, as he held it out to her.

She grabbed the paper from his hands and cried out when she saw the image on the front page. Frank’s dead body was propped up between the grinning faces of militia men, as if he was a hunting trophy. His neck was twisted at an obscene angle from the rope they had used to hang him. As horrifying as the image was, Katniss had expected this outcome. And as chilling as it was to read about Thread’s proud conquest, even worse was his order that Frank’s body be left on display as a warning to all remaining renegade warriors that their time was coming, too.

Katniss knew it for what it was; an assertion of Thread’s power. It was a threat aimed at anyone sympathetic to the Indian cause that if they stood against him they would be singled out as enemies. And it was also a reminder that a man such as her brother didn’t deserve the dignity of burial.

The next morning Peeta rose well before dawn and prepared their wagon. Katniss grew concerned, suspecting his intention. He slid his hands down her arms until her hands were gripped in his own. The determined way he clenched his jaw was softened by the sadness in his eyes.

“It’s the right thing to do, Katniss. We have to stop letting Thread intimidate us.”

Without further word, he climbed into the wagon and headed for Denver. It was late afternoon when he returned with Frank’s body. When she asked him if anyone had tried to stop him, Peeta shook his head.

“I’m not sure what I would have done if Thread had been present. But nobody who was there was prepared to get in my way.”

They buried Frank beside his mother in the grave that Sage and David had prepared while their father was gone. The family stood huddled around the mound, braced against the cold March winds as the sun dropped behind them.

In the days that followed, Thread appeared to have won the public’s approval by killing such a high profile trouble maker. Katniss wondered if it was out of arrogance that he left her and her family alone. But the Mellarks learned that Thread’s lack of action was likely due to another more pressing concern; news reached Mellark’s Farm at the beginning of April that General Heavensbee was arriving within the week.

Peeta and Katniss prepared to depart for Denver the next day, eager to confer with Finnick, Annie and Gale ahead of the inquiry. As she set aside their things for the journey, Katniss took out her deerskin wedding dress. She was compelled to wear the beautiful symbol of her heritage to the inquiry as a personal act of defiance and pride. When Peeta saw the dress folded on the bed, without a word he went and fetched his own elk skin shirt to join it. They would face this challenge as they faced everything. Together.

They left the running of the trading post in the hands of Sage. Though they were hopeful about the outcome, they felt enough uncertainty that having their children remain behind seemed prudent. Katniss’s reluctance for them to endure hearing any more of the details of that terrible day solidified the decision.

Just as they departed their village, a figure limped out of the brush along the river front. Peeta pulled the wagon to a halt as Katniss leapt down to embrace her brother, Matt, as he crumpled to the ground. He’d walked for days, driven only by his desire to reach them. When Peeta took his turn to hug Matt, Katniss saw concern in her husband’s eyes. What should they do now?

Before either of them could speak, Matt made his request. “Give me a rifle, Peeta. And ammunition.”

He intended to fight on, even though Katniss pleaded with him to stop. She told Matt what he already knew, that it would end with her having two dead brothers. Matt gave her a sorrowful smile.

“It was always going to be this way, Katniss.” The corner of his mouth curled down into a sneer. “At least this way I take as many of them down with me, for what they did.”

“No, Matt,” Peeta answered. “The killing has to stop. There’s a general coming to Denver. One who wishes to learn the truth. He will…”

Matt huffed, interrupting him. “The truth! Other than men like you or Finnick, how many white men are interested in the truth?”

Katniss gripped his arm. “This inquiry is investigating the conduct of military officers, and Colonel Thread won’t be able to hide,” she insisted. “What happened will have to come out.”

“If you come with us,” Peeta said, “If you turn yourself in and surrender, there’s a chance you can receive a fair trial. With such a highly respected general coming to town, everyone will be more cautious.”

“But they will still execute me,” Matt answered and Katniss felt her chest clench as she turned to hear Peeta’s response.

“Perhaps,” he whispered. Then he nodded. “It’s likely, given the charges against you. But at least they will be forced to hear your side. Your death can still mean something.”

Matt stared at his brother-in-law, evaluating the veracity of his words. After a minute of deliberation, he sighed, exhaustion settling over his body, the fight gone. “Alright. I’ll surrender.”

They dismounted from the wagon when they reached Denver, opting to avoid the military headquarters and bring Matt Everdeen to the local police chief instead. Katniss slipped off one of her petticoats and fashioned a white flag of surrender. Waving it, she and Peeta each took one of her brother’s arms and slowly made their way through the busy streets. People stopped, pointing and murmuring as they walked by.

Just as they passed the newspaper office, Katniss noticed wide eyes and gasps in the people before her, as something caught their attention. She and Peeta turned a second too late, and the crack of a rifle rang out. Matt collapsed between them, dead before he hit the ground.

Behind him stood a smug Thread holding the weapon. He’d shot Matt in the back, and waving the rifle in the air, he bellowed that another victory had been won with the remaining Everdeen devil put down.

But Thread miscalculated if he thought his triumph over a surrendering man would help his cause. The people in the streets stood mute in shock.

He turned red and yelled out to the crowd. “It’s men like me, who are willing to do what is necessary who have kept you safe.”

He then retreated back into the newspaper office, no doubt to write another editorial to get on top of the message before Heavensbee arrived.

Peeta and Katniss had no choice but to turn for home, another brother to bury. But as they journeyed, Katniss could feel all fear slip away from her. Nobody was safe anymore. Whatever it took, whatever risk was involved, this inquiry must bring Thread down, to answer for his crimes.

The day they returned to town, Katniss and Peeta learned that the general and his entourage had arrived in a whirlwind of excitement. The citizens of Denver were consumed with the pending event, and gossip abounded as the banquet room in the hotel was set up for Heavensbee and his aides to undertake their inquiry.

Thread was eager to win favor with the esteemed general. His deplorable execution of an unarmed man, even one as hated at Matt Everdeen, compelled him to boast of his many successes to the impassive general. He knew what was at stake. Annie described, with satisfaction, the angry dismay on Thread’s face when the general had greeted her with warmth.

Heavensbee was, however, reserved toward Gale and Finnick, and though Finnick explained that it was due to his need to be impartial, Katniss couldn’t help be worried. Her concern seemed justified as the inquiry began with Thread’s minions rushing to his defense. Determined to keep the sordid events at Rattlesnake Buttes under wraps, they volunteered in large numbers to come forward in condemnation of Captain Hawthorne, characterizing Gale in the most disparaging light. They were followed by a parade of civilian character-witnesses giving Thread credit for saving them and their farms from vicious attack.

But Katniss wasn’t prepared when she learned that Gale would not be included in the list of witnesses. Gale’s version of events had been reported in Annie’s letter to General Heavensbee, but it would not form part of the official record.

Katniss was incensed. “Then it’s just Thread’s word against yours without any explanation! And with all the witnesses representing Thread’s side, how can we hope for a truthful outcome?”

“It’s not just the charge of disobeying a direct order, Katniss,” Finnick explained. “Gale’s accused of cowardice, perhaps the worst offense to hurl at an officer’s character. Heavensbee understands that if he allows Gale to testify, anything he could say would be considered unreliable.”

She turned to Gale. “But what about the other men? The ones you said supported you?” Katniss asked, now growing desperate.

“They’re too afraid,” he answered. “Right now, all they are guilty of is following my orders. If they come forward, even to tell the truth, they know that Thread’s men will make their lives unbearable. They’re thugs of the worst kind. Thread killed your brother in cold blood in the streets of Denver, Katniss. And no one stood up to him.”

“If they won’t let Gale testify in his own defense, then what was the point of the inquiry?” Annie added with disgust.

“Can no one else be persuaded to come forward?” Peeta asked.

Even as the words left his mouth, Katniss could feel Peeta’s eyes settle on her as it dawned on him. She saw the apprehension in his tense shoulders as the only choice became clear in her mind.

“Katniss…” he began, his voice tight with anxiety. The others turned to face her.

“There’s no one else, Peeta,” she said. And then as the fire she had repressed for so long sprang to life in her chest, she straightened taller. “The inquiry is going to hear the truth. I’ll testify,” she said, her voice steady and grim.

Peeta furrowed his brow. “We have no way of knowing if they’ll accept your version of events.” Worry lines creased his forehead. He turned to Gale. “I know you served under Heavensbee in battle. Can he be trusted to be fair?”

Gale remained quiet for a time as he processed what was really behind Peeta’s words. Katniss could see it in his eyes. They were already losing against Thread. Would her coming forward even help or just put her in Thread’s crosshairs?

“He was a man of honor when fighting in the war. What he would be like in a court of inquiry on this issue, I can’t say for certain.”

“Do we have any choice?” Katniss replied to the people sitting around the parlor. “If we don’t try, what then? Our lives, our children’s lives, the lives of all the people in that village who survived… what lies ahead for all of them?” She turned to Peeta. “You are the one who reminded me that we can’t let Thread intimidate us anymore.” He gave her a strained smile, acknowledging with reluctance how imperative it was for her to do this.

The decision was made, and the next day, dressed in her deerskin dress, Katniss came forward and declared herself a witness to the events of the battle at Rattlesnake Buttes.

She was met with strident resistance from Thread’s supporters. The last time she’d faced Thread, she’d silently warned him. He had glared down at her with condescension that day, but this time Katniss was sure she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. She may not be armed but she had an arrow of truth aimed straight at his deceit. And she was no longer afraid to use it.

“She’s the sister of the Everdeens,” the colonel protested. “Anything she says is suspect. Not to mention her husband physically assaulted me when I attempted to exercise my authority in protecting the people.”

“These are grave charges,” Heavensbee said directing his comment at Peeta. “Is this true?”  
Peeta rose and confirmed it. “I have the scars from his sword to remind me.”

“I’d have cut you, too, if you attacked me,” the general barked.

Peeta wasn’t shaken by his words, and asked in response, “Are you a married man, General?”

When Heavensbee answered in the affirmative, Peeta repeated the insult Thread had directed at his wife. The general said nothing, but the condemning glare left his eyes. He called a recess and said he’d deliberate on whether Katniss’s testimony would be heard.

Katniss couldn’t help chew on her fingernails. Maybe wearing her dress was a mistake. Peeta reached over and took her hand and gave it a squeeze. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might be barred from testifying, and her stomach was in knots of growing anxiety. Could she have revealed herself for nothing?

Heavensbee returned to the room and once he was seated, he looked with stern appraisal at Katniss and spoke the words she had been dreading.

“It is in my opinion that, with Mrs. Mellark’s close ties to the criminal Everdeen brothers and the fact that she would have a personal score to settle with Colonel Thread, her testimony would likely be subject to bias. I have therefore decided…”

An unsteady voice interrupted the general. “If you won’t hear Mrs. Mellark, I’ll testify in her place.”

All eyes whipped around to discover the source. A young man in the uniform of a militia private, probably no older than eighteen with a thin build and dark hair, stood at the back of the room.

“I was there, with Colonel Thread and the rest of the soldiers at the battle… I mean at the…” He was having difficulty spitting out the words as he gripped his hat with trembling hands. “I saw what happened at Rattlesnake Buttes.”

“Why haven’t you come forward before, Private?” the general demanded.

The militia man shrugged, too nervous to speak.

“Why are you willing to come forward now?” Heavensbee asked, changing his tactic.

The young man looked up from the ground and turned to Katniss. “Because Mrs. Mellark is a good and decent woman, and she shouldn’t not be allowed to speak because of who she is.”

Katniss screwed up her face trying to figure out her connection to the young man who was so eager to testify on her behalf.

Heavensbee scrutinized the private, deliberating for a moment. “Alright, swear him in,” the general ordered, and the young militia man was brought forward. “Give your full name, son.”

“Private Edward Winfield, serving under Colonel Thread in the First Regiment of Colorado Volunteers.”

Edward Winfield. The name meant nothing to Katniss.

“And you were present at the battle of Rattlesnake Buttes?”

“Yes sir. I saw what happened. And I can tell you what the others have said is a lie,” he answered.

“I have to ask, Private. What is your connection to Mrs. Mellark?”

Katniss was dying to know, too.

The young man gave her a shy smile. “Because when I was little and our family was starving, she did us a great kindness. And didn’t expect nothing in return. So I want to do the same for her.”

Edward… Eddy. From the gold-panning family in the mountains. The little dark-haired boy who had reminded her of Sage. Katniss was stunned. All this time she had been trying to figure out how to take down Thread, and it turned out that a boy inspired by a simple act of compassion was the key.

“Well, go ahead. Tell us your story, son.”

It became evident right from the start that Eddy’s testimony was far more effective than anything Katniss could have shared. Because he had been so much closer to the horrors, his descriptions were intensely detailed, causing the audience to gasp with every revelation.

He explained how he was the messenger for his commander, Colonel Thread, and how Captain Hawthorne told his men that they wouldn’t participate in the shameful affair. He revealed how the captain had let the villagers escape. He broke down several times, sometimes with dry heaves, as he described how Thread had ordered the slaughter of a village made up of mostly unarmed men, women and children. The general called for a break in proceedings at one point so Eddy could compose himself.

On and on it went, and Katniss began to shake as she relived that awful day. Peeta put his arm around her and she leaned into him, but her eyes remained on Eddy, willing him to stay strong as he gave witness.

Eddy hung his head and grew silent, tears running down his face.

“Do you have anything else to say, Private?” Heavensbee asked softly.

Katniss could taste the bile rising in the back of her throat. There was only one set of atrocities left to describe that Eddy had so far avoided. The children.

Eddy looked at Katniss with sorrow. He swallowed and turned to Heavensbee. “He ordered that the little ones, some just babies, be killed.” He held back on none of the abhorrent details. When he mentioned how the sight of it made him throw up in front of Captain Hawthorne, Eddy reported that Gale had told him they should all be sick that day. But the last thing he described clinched the attack on Thread’s character.

“When the sergeant grabbed two of the children, carrying them away, the colonel asked what the hell he was doing. The sergeant said he was taking prisoners.” His voice trailed off.

“Well, Private?” Heavensbee prompted.

Eddy looked up and stared straight at Thread. “He said, ‘Nits grow into lice.’ The men laughed like it was a joke, and then they shot them in the head.” Eddy’s face was wracked with pain. “They were just little kids!”

He hung his head and wept. The room was deathly silent, and when Eddy finally turned to look at the general, Heavensbee looked away. With unfocused eyes, he sat processing all that he had heard.

“My God,” was all the general could say. As horrible as it was to relive the atrocity, Katniss felt the knot in her stomach disappear. In its place was grim satisfaction. The tide had turned.

After Eddy finished, other men found the courage to come forward. Army soldiers serving under Gale backed up his story, and the evidence against Thread became insurmountable.

Heavensbee only needed a short time of deliberation before he dismissed all charges against Gale and released Finnick from house arrest. He declared that the accusations against the two Army officers were preposterous. There were howls from Thread’s supporters calling Gale and Finnick traitors and Indian lovers.

The general renounced Thread with unequivocal condemnation and words of disgust, and ordered that the colonel be removed from command of the United States Army’s troops. But a blow came as the general confessed that he had no power to lay charges or remove Thread from leadership of the territorial volunteer militia. That was up to the people of Colorado. And with that admission, the general announced the inquiry was closed.

It was a thin victory for the colonel, however. His reputation was damaged and his political aspirations dashed. While he maintained considerable support, his influence would never be the same.

His job done, Heavensbee announced his plan to return east the next day. He said a few words to the Odairs and Gale, and even kissed Annie’s hand saying a kind word about her mother as the banquet room emptied. Katniss saw Eddy standing at the back of the room and went to embrace the young man.

“Thank you,” she said, and he answered, “I wish I could’ve done more.”

 _Don’t we all,_ she thought.

That night as Katniss, Peeta and Gale retired to the Odairs' home, they were subdued. The fire that had propelled Katniss had flickered down, and she could see that they all shared a weariness after the events of the day.

A knock came to the door, and Finnick returned with an envelope. He held it out to Gale. “This is for you, from General Heavensbee.”

Gale frowned, and they all looked on with curiosity as he removed the letter and read what it said. His mouth twisted into a cynical scowl.

“What does it say?” Annie asked with concern.

“It’s a letter of commendation for my actions at Rattlesnake Buttes,” he huffed. “He’s recommending that I be awarded a promotion to Major for my heroism.”

He handed it off to Finnick to read, and ran his hand over his eyes. He looked grayer, almost diminished in size in some indefinable way from what Katniss remembered.

“That’s good, Gale. You stood firm going up against Thread. You should be rewarded,” Finnick said gently.

Gale shot him an incredulous look but said nothing. Later that night as they were preparing to go to bed, he was the last to leave the parlor. Katniss turned just in time to see Gale crumple the letter and toss it into the fire.

The Mellarks said their goodbyes early the next morning and headed for home. As the wagon approached Mellark’s Farm, Katniss caught the whiff of smoke. Peeta frowned and urged the horses to pick up speed. Katniss cried out when she saw the flames stretching high above them. They both leapt from the wagon and rushed to the inferno that used to be their trading post and home.

“Where are they?!” Katniss screamed searching for signs of her children.

At the sound of her voice, the four Mellark children emerged from the smoke from around the side of the burning stockade walls. She and Peeta ran to meet them, and after reassuring themselves they were all safe, they huddled together watching their home burn to the ground as dusk fell.

Katniss studied her children and saw a mixture of shock, anger and worry in their faces. And the reality descended with the night, the flames hot and bright despite the chilly darkness. Thread had had his revenge.

“Where are we going to live?” Hunter asked his father. All eyes turned to Peeta.

He took a deep breath and gave them all a smile. “We’ll have to build another home,” he answered with resolute conviction. “It’s just a trading post. Time we had a better one anyway.”

This seemed to reassure the boys.

“My dress burned up. I never even got to wear it,” Juniper whimpered.

It broke Katniss’s heart. Sooty tear tracks ran down her daughter’s face and Katniss reached for Juniper to embrace her. The boys appeared brave, but she seemed so vulnerable.

Village residents who had come to watch the spectacle had long returned to their homes. Not a one had offered to take in the family now left homeless.

“Frank told me that it would burn one day,” Peeta said. “I wonder what he’d say about the irony that it was the white people that ended up doing it.”

It made Katniss’s blood turn hot with bitterness. All these people would have nothing if not for her and Peeta’s generosity in selling them the land for their businesses and homes. “While the others, the ones we’ve helped, turn their backs on us,” she added.

Peeta put his arm around her. “Everyone is still scared, Katniss. Just give them time, and when it’s clear that Thread’s men have lost their power, everyone will change. It’s not about us as much as it is about Thread.”

Katniss wasn’t entirely convinced, but for the children’s sake she nodded in agreement.  
They loaded up whatever they could salvage onto the wagon and, together, the Mellarks rode through the night back to Denver. They arrived just as the Odairs were rising. Finnick and Annie helped them inside, expressing outrage when they learned about the fire. Exhausted, they changed out of smoky, sooty clothes and fell into their beds.

Katniss awoke early and dragged herself out of bed after a second night of disturbed sleep since they’d returned to Denver. The last of the snow that lingered in the shadows had vanished and April’s fresh spring air greeted her when she stepped outside. She closed her eyes and basked in the sunshine, hoping its radiance would melt the block of tension that gripped her body.

Nearing thirty-eight years of age, the pain of loss wasn’t anything new to Katniss. She had grieved the death of her parents. She’d seen the deterioration of conditions for the Indian population in Colorado along with the disappearance of the great buffalo herds. She’d been saddened at the transformation of the pristine mountain valleys in the ravenous hunt for gold. She’d witnessed the massacre at Rattlesnake Buttes and mourned her brothers’ violent deaths.

She questioned all the effort and hope they’d put into the inquiry. Thread had lost much of his power, but he wasn’t gone. Standing up to the madman had led to her family being the target of his wrath. The last traces of fiery resolve that had driven Katniss to fight had dissolved when she saw her children’s faces as they watched their home burn.

Had anything changed? The truth of the slaughter was revealed, but Katniss worried that it would come to naught in the end.

Finnick offered the best advice when she expressed her doubts at what they had achieved. He insisted that they not to give into it. That they had to press forward and persist in pushing for change. But she could see that even he had grown weary of the struggle.

She was enveloped in warmth when strong arms circled her from behind, and she melted into them and sighed. She trusted Peeta when he said they would rebuild, but her heart still felt heavy.

He nudged her and she tilted her head to see what he meant by it. He gave the little crooked smile that always had the power to make her grin back out of reflex. But there was an unexpected twinkle in his eye that made her curious. He nodded his head towards the mountains.

She scrutinized the white-capped peaks and the brilliant blue sky over them. The morning sun made the slopes look especially green.

"How about it? Just you and me,” Peeta asked with gentle persuasion.

Katniss stiffened in his arms, reluctant to leave her children so soon after their personal loss. He turned her to face him. “The children are safe, and we have time until we rebuild the store. It would just be for a few days.”

Peeta didn’t ask for much and, though her first inclination was to return inside and crawl back into bed, she was reluctant to turn him down.

“Go!” Annie insisted from the doorway. “Thomas and Maggie are thrilled to have their cousins around and will keep them occupied.”

Katniss stroked Peeta’s cheek. ”Okay, let's go,” she answered.

She thought it was for him, but the closer their ponies got to their claim in the mountains the more she realized how much she needed to see it again.

It made her heart ache with a nostalgic sadness when she saw their old cabin in ruin, collapsed into a pile of logs after so many years of neglect and exposure to the elements. But Peeta reached across to touch her shoulder and pointed to the ridge, toward their goal.

Where they would find wildflowers. Because this was a rare year that all the conditions were right.

Once they’d eaten supper, they sat quietly at the entrance to their simple shelter in the middle of the meadow. As the setting sun cast a golden hue over the scene, Katniss placed her hand on Peeta’s thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Peeta laced his fingers with hers. She couldn’t help fixate on that hand, broad and fair compared to hers, bearing the faint scars from burns he’d received in his youth as a baker. The way his thumb stroked the tender flesh at the base of her thumb.

“It was twenty years ago, almost to the day,” he said. “My life was at its darkest just before the arrival of the wildflowers, just before you. You saved my life here. And this place changed me forever.”

His solemn tone made her turn to him. He was gazing at her with the same eyes that she remembered from Fort John, so stunning they rivaled the summer sky. But more than the color, it was the kindness that lived there.

“I know that you’re hurting, Katniss, and we’ve lost so much. But look at it.” He waved his hand over the meadow. “It’s still here. And so are we. And maybe next year the flowers will be gone and we won’t see them for awhile. But they always come back, faithful and perfect. They’ll still be here, waiting, enduring the less favorable seasons. And just like them, you and I, the children, we’re strong enough to make it through those hard years, too.”

She thought of all the alternative endings for her life if it wasn’t for Peeta and her children. Would she have become like her brothers, with limited choices, consumed by anger? Or would she have ended up alone and afraid, her parents long gone and having never known her sister? Would she have been one of the victims at Rattlesnake Buttes?

Regardless of what path, they all led to one place.

Katniss reached down and plucked a columbine. Twirling its stem between her fingers, she regarded this man whose life she had shared. Oh, how she loved him. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath of mountain air and lay back on the plush buffalo robes. How long had it been since she’d really breathed without the claustrophobic constriction on her chest? With her exhale, she imagined all the pain seeping out, and in its place a sweet memory formed. Full of wildflowers and Peeta.

She sighed when his fingers caressed the sensitive skin along the side of her neck. As his hand traveled down, its light touch awoke a need that had been buried under months of grief and anguish. She loved those hands, strong and calloused from hard work and yet gentle enough to soothe away a child’s hurt or his wife’s nightmares. Sensual enough to make her body quiver with want.

He took his time, his hand exploring the contours he already knew so well until it reached the bottom edge of her dress. She smiled as it slipped underneath and retraced its path upward along her thigh. Eager to be free of clothing, she helped him remove her dress and watched with expectant pleasure as he pulled the shirt over his head. Goosebumps pebbled his skin over the muscles on his back as she ran a hand over them. It made her smile.

Undressed, Peeta hovered over her and they lay still for a moment appreciating the feel of each other.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but now I understand what my mother meant when she insisted I come to find you,” she whispered as he kissed her shoulder.

“Hmm. And what’s that?” he murmured against her skin.

“You saved me, too.”

He raised his head to regard her. Then, taking the flower from her fingers he tucked it in her hair. With a voice thick with emotion, he whispered, “Well in that case, maybe it’s my turn to claim you, wife.”

Katniss couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.


	15. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all the tragedy they’ve endured, it’s time for some happiness for the Mellark family. The journey may not be entirely free of heartache for everyone, however, as the children grow up in a world that is changing and yet, also remains painfully the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heartfelt thanks to (on tumblr) finduilasnumenesse, titaniasfics, papofglencoe and bethylark for all your help and encouragement! Hugs!!

**Chapter 15 - Family (February, 1876 - April, 1877)**

She breezed into the bakery like a ray of sunshine. Ten years old, two blonde braids bouncing as she skipped around the counter to give her father a kiss after a day at school. It brought a sweet ache to Katniss’s heart as she watched them.

Peeta set aside the birthday cake he was decorating with small blue flowers.

“Hey, Nugget!” he laughed and reached down to wrap his daughter in a hug.

Primrose. She’d been born in the middle of January of 1866. Her name was inspired by the lovely golden-yellow flowers that dotted the meadow in which she was conceived. And just like the wildflowers, she had been a bit of a surprise, arriving when the conditions were just right, nine years after her brother, Hunter.

Peeta’s nickname for her was fitting. She was their golden child. It was more than her sunny disposition. Everything about Prim resembled the precious metal. Her honey-gold hair, her complexion that appeared as if it was sun-kissed year round. Even her blue eyes were dusted with fine gold specks, like nuggets twinkling in a mountain stream, if you looked closely enough.

Peeta liked to joke that, while other men had to dig and pan for it, he’d discovered his little treasure with hardly any work at all. Just yesterday, when Katniss had teased that it must mean she was an heiress after all, ‘delivering’ a gold mine, Peeta swept her into an embrace, gushing, "My princess." Giving her a wink, he whispered he’d be pleased to do her bidding later that night. He was covered in flour, and she pretended to be annoyed, brushing it from her good dress. But she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Well if it isn’t our resident lovebirds,” the mayor’s wife had chortled as she paid for her purchases, bundling up to head back into the wintery February day.

Katniss had given a snort and playful slap at Peeta, all the while distracted by Peeta’s intriguing offer.

In past years, such displays made their children roll their eyes and groan, but they had long grown used to it. As for Katniss, her youngest child had been fulfillment of a promise that life could be good after the heartbreaking events that had almost crushed her spirit. She was the good omen that her mother, Laughing Bird, had described, reviving hope just like the wildflowers.

The Mellarks had built their new home and store on a spot further up the slope from the river. In an act of exceptional generosity, Peeta insisted on donating the land surrounding the original trading post to the village so they could construct a town hall for the growing population. A train station and hotel were added in the summer of 1870 when the railway came through Mellark’s Farm on its way south to Denver.

It had helped to smooth over hard feelings after how things had gone, letting the people of Mellark’s Farm know their founding family held no grudges. But at the heart of it, Katniss was glad to start again on a new piece of land not connected to the hurt inflicted by Colonel Thread. Regarding the colonel’s fate, he had eventually been driven out of Colorado in disgrace. Katniss didn’t know where he ended up. She was just happy that he wasn’t anywhere near where he could hurt her or her family anymore.

Sage, now twenty-eight, had opted to return to St. Louis with the Odairs in 1866. It hadn’t been easy for them to leave Colorado. Finnick wanted to make best advantage of the momentum from the inquiry to pressure the government into acting on behalf of the tribes who had suffered so much. He and Grey Cloud, who had miraculously survived the massacre, had wept together for the tragedy that neither man could stop from happening.

Thread’s impact continued in the months immediately following his fall from power. Shortly after dawn on the day that Finnick and Grey Cloud mourned, young Eddy Winfield was discovered by his older sister beside their home. He’d been beaten to death. When the news reached Mellark’s Farm, Katniss mourned the young man as if he was family.

And then, that evening, Finnick managed to crawl home, bloodied, broken, and left for dead after being set upon by some of Thread’s vindictive mutts.

Attending to her severely injured husband, Annie had made the decision.

“You’ve given enough, Finnick. You fought so hard and did your best. Please, for the family’s sake. Let’s go home.”

Sage and Thomas had both enrolled in law school, and it didn’t come as a surprise to the Mellarks that their son had elected to study Indian Tribal Law. When the boys graduated, Sage was content to continue in his field, but Annie had written to Katniss in 1873 to announce that Thomas was heading to Washington, planning to serve as an aide in the office of the newly elected senator from Missouri. They expected that he’d run for office himself one day.

Sage wasn’t married, but Annie revealed he was spending considerable time with Lavinia, the daughter of the current editor of St. Louis’s newspaper, and she expected an announcement soon. Katniss suspected that the quality of the news would improve in veracity with her son keeping a close watch.

Hunter was still the boy who loved the outdoors. The massive cattle ranch that had been founded by a British aristocrat, Lord Kinnersley, had hired him on the spot when he showed up at the ranch headquarters north of town. Dalton, the Texas foreman, described to Katniss and Peeta how their son was a natural cowboy. Even though he was only nineteen, Hunter had innate skills that surpassed his elders. Dalton predicted that he’d be running the Crown K one day. He had an instinctive way with the cattle they raised and was a remarkable horseman.

Hunter was also a young man in love. He was assigned to watch over the cattle in the northwestern portion of the ranch that extended into Wyoming. While out riding and exploring the land he was so passionate about, he’d happened to meet the granddaughter of Grey Cloud when he came upon their small encampment.

Silver Star had been raised by her grandparents after her parents were among those killed at Rattlesnake Buttes. The girl had resisted Hunter’s attention for a time, suspicious of most people outside the remnant of her tribe, but he persisted. When her grandfather realized whose child he was, he welcomed the then sixteen year old. And, just as his grandfather Everdeen had done with Laughing Bird’s father, he won over the chief with his fearless and forthright character.

He had smiled and told the boy, “She’s a quick one, Hunter. If you can catch her, you have my blessing.”

Hunter took that challenge to heart and, to his delight, his tenacity had paid off after several years of determined courting. Star had begun to ease up on her evasive ways. For the past couple of years, he’d been saving his earnings to build a home of his own up near the line camp he patrolled. He hoped to have it ready within the year and move out of the hired hands’ bunkhouse at the ranch headquarters. And, to Katniss’s delight, her son came to ask her about what would be appropriate gifts to offer Star’s family in accordance with Arapaho traditions. Peeta joked that their youngest son might beat his eldest brother in taking a wife.

When David turned twenty-three in September of 1874, he had married his school sweetheart, Emma. The week after, the two had approached Peeta and Katniss with a proposal to take over the family’s store.

David’s idea was born out of the popularity of Peeta’s baking and the growing demand for his products as the town expanded. Katniss recognized the wisdom in the suggestion as David had been the child who took greatest interest in their store. It would also give Peeta more time and flexibility to indulge in his favorite side business.

“You always wanted to devote more time to baking, Peeta,” Katniss said. “David would have a livelihood now that he and Emma are starting a new family. I know it would make you happy.”

It seemed like a logical idea, and Peeta agreed. Although no one said it, Katniss knew the timing couldn’t have been better. They built an addition on one side of the store, complete with new living quarters upstairs, and Peeta brought in the specialized equipment he needed to open his bakery.

Katniss was amazed that after so many years she was still learning new things about her husband. He was a remarkable artist. She had a vague memory of a time in the mountains when he’d alluded to painting, though at the time she’d been distracted by wildflowers… and other things. But after years of a life dedicated to the more practical concerns of running a trading post, and selling only simple baked goods, Peeta revealed just how talented he was.

The first days after he’d agreed to open the new business, she’d caught him practicing working with the colored frostings and icings, muttering to himself.

“I guess I’m a little rusty,” he said when she asked him what was wrong. But within a week, his creations were good enough to sell and were attracting a buzz of excitement when people walked by the displays.

Peeta named the new establishment, the ‘Gold Nugget Bakery’ after Primrose. She was her father’s daughter, working with enthusiasm beside him in the new shop every day before and after school. She’d measure out ingredients, arrange displays, and greet customers. Everyone in town loved the bakery’s namesake.

They had their grand opening in time for the Christmas season. Katniss watched with satisfaction as Peeta presented his array of intricately decorated delicacies alongside the familiar breads and pies, as the citizens of their town marveled over the tantalizing selection.

Katniss loved to watch Prim, sitting cross-legged on the counter near Peeta as he worked, her elbows propped on her knees, her chin cradled in her palms, intently studying her father’s technique. Occasionally, Peeta would stop and ask her a question, and her eyes would light up. She’d point or make a suggestion, and back to work they’d go, heads together in deep concentration as they discussed ideas for the fancy cakes and pastries they now made. Prim was eager to follow in his footsteps, and Peeta proudly indulged in Prim’s whimsical ideas.

She might have been tempted to be a little envious of their close bond if it hadn’t brought such joy to her husband’s life to have one of his children so devoted to his passion. Today, she was particularly grateful for it.

Prim gave her father an extra long hug. Then she took his face in her little hands and peering into his eyes, she promised, “I’ll never leave you, Papa.”

Ordinarily Katniss would inquire if Prim had any homework, but this afternoon she let her be. Peeta asked her if she’d like to help him, and Prim nodded, grabbed her apron, and, with a smile, the two of them went to work completing the birthday cake.

Because today was February 23rd. Juniper would turn twenty-two today. Peeta insisted on making her a cake every year, even though she had missed the last six birthdays with the family.

Life was good for four of her children, promising bright and happy futures. Juniper, however, was another story. In hindsight, Katniss realized she should have seen the signs earlier. Juniper had been a quiet girl growing up, her only real friend was her cousin, Maggie. Shortly after she turned eleven, their home had burned down, and soon after, the Odairs returned to Missouri. Juniper had gone from reserved to withdrawn. Peeta suggested she missed Maggie, but when she turned into a sullen, volatile teenager, they knew there was more going on with their daughter.

It had been easier for the boys. Sage and David were close in age and had each other. And Hunter… well, he’d, from the beginning, maintained an easy-going and independent nature when it came to others. His intrinsic self-confidence and resilience allowed him to shrug off the past troubles.

It became clear that Juniper’s struggles ran deeper. When she was fourteen, she and Katniss had entered the newspaper office one day and inadvertently overheard ladies discussing the latest treaty that resulted in the removal of the remnant of the Arapaho from Colorado. Some were sent to a reservation in Oklahoma, while Grey Cloud and the rest who resided near the South Platte River went north.

“Good riddance,” one of the ladies had huffed. “Spare our territory of their wretched presence.”

Katniss felt her blood run cold and her back stiffen, but when she turned to Juniper, her daughter’s face was red, and hot tears of rage filled her eyes. She ran out of the building as the ladies turned, flushing with embarrassment when they realized who had overheard their conversation.

Katniss found her daughter crying in her room, but when she tried to comfort her, she screamed at her mother that it was all her fault that she had to endure these slurs, leaving Katniss dismayed. Peeta tried to talk to Juniper, but she shut him out, too. It was then that they understood more fully how the trauma of the past had affected her. After that, things only got tougher, as Juniper retreated into a shell they couldn’t find a way to breach.

Katniss knew the burden of bigotry, but she had grown up sheltered compared to her daughter. She hadn’t been the victim of violence at such a young age, having her safety jeopardized. While the rest of the family had managed to move on, Juniper had remained locked in a cage of vulnerability and resentment, feeling like an outcast in her own town. Her particular exotic beauty hadn’t helped her make friends either. Other girls felt it necessary to demean her, using the stigma of her ancestry as a weapon out of petty jealousy.

“Oh, Peeta, how could we have not seen how lost she is?” Katniss cried with guilt.

“Maybe we should send her back east,” Peeta suggested, desperate to help his now sixteen-year-old daughter as he sat with Katniss on the edge of their bed one night discussing what to do. “It helped you figure things out, find your way. I know Finnick and Annie would be pleased to take her in, and maybe having Maggie as a friend again would help.”

Katniss wanted to tell him that it wasn’t the same. While she trusted Annie and Finnick, Juniper wouldn’t have Portia’s charismatic mentoring, or her mother’s steady presence. Accompanying Juniper to St. Louis, the way Laughing Bird had done for her, wouldn’t work. Her daughter rejected her, believing she was the source of her troubles. It had been years since Juniper and Maggie had been around each other, so it was impossible to know if they would bond after all this time. And Juniper didn’t have her own version of Peeta with his unconditional love, patiently supporting and waiting for her back home.

“But she has us,” Peeta insisted. Katniss nodded. They didn’t have many options to help their troubled daughter, and sending her to complete her schooling in St. Louis seemed the best one available to them.

The first letters from Annie provided some hope. Juniper had enthusiastically embraced life in the city and was quite popular, especially with the young officers from the military base. Annie assured them that she enjoyed the attention but showed no serious interest in them. If anything, she confounded the young men with her dismissive flirtations. She and Maggie were enjoying being carefree young women. Annie reminded her of all the fun they’d had. Regardless, Katniss couldn't ignore a nagging worry in her gut.

In 1872, just before eighteen-year-old Juniper was due to return home, they received a letter from their daughter announcing that she was marrying Lieutenant Robert Nelson and moving to New York. It was painfully lacking in details and left Katniss and Peeta perplexed until a letter from Annie arrived with more explanation.

Sadly, her letter confirmed Katniss’s fears. Juniper had slipped away during the night, leaving a duplicate of the note that she’d sent to her parents. Maggie revealed that Juniper had confessed to her that she was pregnant.

None of this would have caused undue grief for Katniss and Peeta, so long as Juniper was happy, but Finnick’s follow-up letter that fall was devastating. When there had been no word from his niece, he’d taken it upon himself to travel to the Army base in New York where Lt. Nelson had been transferred, to see what he could learn about Juniper and her new husband.

_‘I spoke with his commanding officer, and he said that if ever there has been a less savory officer, he’d be surprised. Lt. Nelson was thrown out of the military for embezzlement of Army funds, and the commander was relieved to have him gone. He wasn’t aware that Nelson had been married. When I learned Juniper had selected such a disgraceful man, I was beside myself. She seemed so happy and popular. Even Maggie doesn’t understand it. I’m so sorry. We promised to watch out for her, and we have failed all of you. I’ve asked all my friends and contacts from my military days to inform me if there is any news of Juniper and Nelson’s whereabouts. But for now, she has appeared to have vanished.’_

Another letter arrived just after Juniper’s 20th birthday in February of 1874. The Odairs had invited Gale to come spend Thanksgiving with them, not wanting him to be alone since his widowed mother had recently passed away. Gale’s father had died a few years back, and with no surviving siblings, the responsibility of running the family textile mill now fell on Gale’s shoulders. He was one of the friends that Finnick had informed regarding their worries about Juniper and her marriage to Nelson.

Gale revealed that during a recent stay in New York on business, he’d heard from a mutual friend some news about Nelson. The rumor was that he’d fled to New Orleans. Sage had wanted to search for his sister, but Finnick convinced his nephew that he should go instead since Sage had his hands full with his law practice. Finnick managed to track the man down, but found him living with a woman who wasn’t Juniper.

When he demanded to know where she was, Nelson had outraged Finnick with his response.

“When I saw that baby, I told her there’s no way it was mine. Dark as an Indian. Then she told me that’s because she was part Arapaho. No damn way I was going to marry a bloody Indian!”

Finnick had assaulted the man and demanded to know where she and the baby were. Nelson wiped his bloody nose and hissed he had no idea and couldn’t care less.

Sending Juniper east had only compounded her isolation and the trauma from her childhood. Peeta took it especially hard since it had been his idea to send her to St. Louis in the first place. Katniss knew that Juniper’s life in Colorado would have been just as uncertain. She tried to comfort Peeta, telling him that something similar might have happened anyway.

That September, when Sage came home for David and Emma’s wedding, he’d brought news of his own. He’d been in Washington attending a conference and met up with Thomas. Thomas wanted to introduce him to various politicians he thought might have influence on Indian issues. He’d agreed to have dinner at an establishment that was popular with government officials, where they gathered after hours to drink brandy and smoke cigars. It was the kind of place they didn’t bring their wives. Sage had been horrified to see his sister in the lap of a man who appeared to be well into his sixties.

He came to their table, attempting to speak with Juniper, and was greeted frostily by her companion, a senator according to Thomas.

“Is there trouble? This young man need to be dealt with?” the senator had asked haughtily.

Sage described how Juniper looked at him with warning in her eyes. “No, he’s no trouble. Are you?”

“I begged her to come with me,” Sage said to his parents. “Said that I’d take her home to Colorado, or even back to St. Louis, but she screamed at me that she was never going back. I told her that we all loved her and, whatever she’d done, it didn’t matter. She told me it was too late for that.”

Sage had given her the name of his hotel with instructions to come find him if she changed her mind or needed anything. The next day, he returned to the club, but she wasn’t there. He asked Thomas to track down the senator and found out later that the man was furious. Juniper had vanished, along with all the money in his wallet and his diamond cufflinks.

Sage hung his head in regret.

“Did she mention the child?” Peeta asked.

Sage shook his head in sadness. “She told me it died shortly after birth. I never found out if it was a boy or girl. Juniper just shrugged, acting like it meant nothing. ‘All for the best,’ was all she said.”

That was the September that David suggested opening the bakery. Throwing themselves into the new venture had helped them all as they coped with the news. Tonight the family would remember Juniper’s birthday with the special cake, and Peeta would go to bed with a whispered prayer for his lost daughter, as he did every night.

Katniss took the news with sad resignation. She understood a little of how it must be for her daughter, but she was pained to see Peeta feel so much guilt.

“She knows we love her, even if she doesn’t love herself. She’ll come home when she’s ready,” she reassured him. Katniss prayed that she was right.

It had been the summer of 1874 when Juniper dropped from sight. In the meantime, life had mercifully been good for the rest of the family. But they worried and prayed, as Juniper was always in the back of their minds.

 

**May, 1876 - April, 1877**

Mayor Undersee and several of Mellark’s Farm’s businessmen came into the store one evening. Emma was expecting her first child and was at home resting, so Peeta and Katniss were helping David go over inventory. The mayor took off his hat and approached Peeta, who greeted them with a smile as the men clustered together with nervous expressions on their faces.

“Something on your mind, Henry?” Peeta asked.

“Um. Well, as you know, with the country celebrating one hundred years, and with the people in Washington making us a full-fledged state on August 1st, we’ve been thinking…”

Peeta raised his eyebrows, urging them on. Katniss and David watched on with curiosity.

“Well, seeing how we’re being called the ‘Centennial State’ and how our town has grown well beyond your old trading post, we’re thinking it might be time to rename it… Because of all the other changes, you know…”

The room grew quiet.

Katniss had to cover her mouth to contain the smirk on her face as she watched Peeta transform before the men. David looked first at his father and then back at his mother with a quizzical frown. Then he tried to suppress a grin. Peeta stood up taller, but his head was down like a buck ready to charge a rival. The men grew alarmed as he scowled at them.

“After all I’ve done for this town, this is the ‘thanks’ I get? Most of you weren’t even here to see the original trading post my partner and I built. That my family has run all these years. There wouldn’t even be a town if…”

The mayor held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Peeta, it’s not that we don’t appreciate everything… If we don’t have your consent, of course we’ll…”

Katniss couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her mouth. All the men turned to her in confusion. They didn’t see what she did. The posture, the gruff voice, the snarky tone that was so out of character for her husband. He was mimicking Haymitch and his reaction so many years ago when his trading post had been named for his young upstart partner.

Peeta chuckled and, returning to his usual demeanor, he clasped Mayor Undersee’s shoulder. “I always thought the name was a bit pretentious. If you want to give Mellark’s Farm a new name, you go right ahead. I’m no more interested in the attention than my old partner, Haymitch Abernathy, was.”

The men let out a collective sigh.

“I’m curious, what are you thinking for the new name anyway?” Peeta asked.

“Well, like I said, we’re celebrating a hundred years and all, so we’re thinking of calling it ‘Centennial’.”

Peeta looked over at Katniss and then, turning back to Mayor Undersee, smiled. “That sounds like a fine name.”

The following week, David came into the bakery with a letter for his parents. He handed it to his mother and returned to the store when the tinkling of the bell over the door announced customers. Katniss furrowed her brow.

“Is it news from Annie?” Peeta asked, and Katniss could hear anxiety in his voice though he tried to hide it.

“No,” she answered. To her surprise, the return address said ' _New Hampshire_.' “It’s from Gale.”

Peeta came to her side and they read the letter together. They looked at each other without speaking. Feeling the need to sit down, they made their way over to the bench beside the door.

Katniss knew that they were going to need more time to process the incredible contents of the letter.

Gale wrote that he’d come across Juniper by accident in his home town. She had balked at his offer of help, but after much coaxing, she’d thankfully capitulated. He reported that she was doing much better in the months since she’d been a guest in his home. Juniper had even become involved in the Hawthorne’s textile enterprise.

_‘She’s been a tremendous asset when it comes to my factory. She has a keen business mind, and has been especially well received by the women who work there. She can relate to them in a way that neither I nor my foremen could ever hope to do.’_

Gale also described how he’d tried to convince her to write to them herself, but she had been reluctant. Gale was confident that in time she would be ready.

But the stunner was his next request.

_‘After so long living as a bachelor, and with no family left, I cannot express how grateful I am to have the brightness and youthful optimism that Juniper has brought back into my solitary life. To discover that such a beautiful young woman would find it in her heart to feel affection for a man such as I has come as a surprise. I would be very honored if you would give your consent for your daughter to marry me. You have my promise that I will do everything in my power to make Juniper happy.’_

Gale explained that as the last survivor and heir to his family’s estate, everything of his would one day go to her and, if they were so fortunate, to their children.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Peeta said after a long silence as they digested the news.

He shifted as if uncomfortable and rubbed the back of his neck. Katniss knew the thought that his daughter could marry a man only a couple years younger than himself, not to mention an old rival of sorts, wasn’t easy for him to accept. When another minute went by, Peeta turned to Katniss and surprised her with an encouraging smile.

“It’s good news, Katniss. Juniper is safe. And she sounds… happy. It’s an answer to our prayers.”

It was a lot to absorb, and Katniss was initially disturbed by the request. The conflicting emotions of relief for Juniper’s well-being and the idea of her marrying her old hunting partner were difficult to reconcile. But as she reread the letter, she recalled the last time she’d seen Gale. How disillusioned he’d seemed. The self-loathing as he tossed the general’s letter of commendation into the Odairs’ fireplace. She also thought of the way Juniper had struggled in the aftermath of the massacre, never finding acceptance within herself.

Perhaps there was some kind of meaningful purpose in their finding each other. They were both lost in their own way. She thought of Annie’s description of Gale, now fifty-four, building a life around managing his family’s textile mill, but otherwise living an austere and lonely existence. And yet, Juniper had somehow managed to slip into that life with ease. She remembered the happy little girl with the lovely, blue-flowered dress now working around the fabrics that had delighted her so much back then.

 _‘A girl deserves something pretty,’_ Annie had said. Juniper hadn’t had a lot of ‘pretty’ in her recent, difficult life.

Katniss turned to Peeta. “Yes. It does seem providential. And I don’t think it’s just about Juniper. Perhaps it’s what they both need.”

That evening Katniss and Peeta wrote a reply that gave their blessing for the union. And they hoped that one day soon, their daughter would find it within herself to reach out to them again.

When July arrived, it came as no surprise that Peeta was commissioned to make the celebration cake as the town marked the admission of Colorado as the country’s thirty-eighth state.

Peeta spent days planning the design. Katniss watched with fascination how he took on a solemn intensity as he sketched and made notes. Even Prim was kept in the dark about what he had in mind, but one thing Katniss knew for certain: when the people of their town finally caught sight of the hidden world currently locked inside his head, they would be witness to something extraordinary.

On August 1st, the new town of Centennial celebrated with music and speeches. When the time came to unveil the cake, just as Katniss had predicted, everyone’s eyes grew large in awe and astonishment. There were even a few gasps.

Because over the surface of the huge cake, Peeta had recreated the history of Colorado. In frosted detail, he depicted the events, neither sentimentalizing the good nor making apology for the bad.

There were impressive snowcapped mountains, vast prairie, and the rivers that had been so important. Within this setting were massive herds of buffalo, along with other animals such as eagles, beaver, coyotes and prairie dogs. Alongside them were Indians, proud and handsome on their ponies. He’d included mountain men and prospectors, cavalry soldiers and militia, farmers and fortune-seekers. There were graves alongside wagon trails. There was an ugly, scarred mountain valley stripped of its trees in the hunt for gold. There was a scene depicting Grey Cloud waving his American flag while the tipi behind him burned. He’d included Indian war parties meeting soldiers in battle. Cowboys rounding up cattle and a train emitting smoke as it arrived at the fledgling city of Denver. So many intricate details. In place of a signature on his work of art there was a humble log and sod hut in the bottom right corner that only Katniss fully understood. And there were wildflowers, too.

Katniss couldn’t remember when she had been more proud of her husband.

Many people came forward to express their amazement with Peeta’s cake.

The train station agent’s wife asked, “Wherever did you learn to decorate like this? All these years running your store, we had no idea. Then you opened the bakery, and now this!”

With a collection of curious people around him, Peeta gave way on his usual avoidance of his past, and explained that he came from a family of bakers back in Pennsylvania. To Katniss’s astonishment he even admitted that he had been rather famous for his decorating talent.

The woman patted his hand and replied with warmth, “I had no idea you still had family back east. Well, I’ll bet they must miss you, but I’m sure happy we have you here instead!”

It left Peeta quiet and introspective for the remainder of the day. That night after they went to bed, Katniss felt compelled to ask, “Do you ever think about them, Peeta?”

“Hmm?” he’d asked. “Who’s that?”

She knew he was being evasive, but she patiently pressed on. “Your family back east. I know they were on your mind today.”

He rolled over and kissed her. “My family’s here in Colorado.”

In October, Emma gave birth to their first grandchild, a daughter she and David named Daisy. Seeing Peeta so sentimental with this new member of their family, Katniss couldn’t help bring it up again.

“It’s been over thirty-two years, Peeta. Whatever happened in the past, they must wonder what happened to you. And aren’t you a little curious about them?”

He shrugged, but this time he said nothing. She decided to not push, instead letting him work it out on his own.

By December, with Christmas around the corner, the news arrived that Sage had proposed to Lavinia. The wedding was planned for the following September, when their son expected to have completed the home he was building for his new bride. With the excitement of Sage’s announcement and the bakery being so busy for the holidays, Katniss forgot all about Peeta’s family back east.

So she was surprised when Peeta said, “We used to make a goat cheese and apple tart that sold well this time of year at the market in Lancaster. I was thinking I might give that a try.” He grew silent for a moment then added, “It was such a busy time for all of us. I wonder how they managed, who filled in for me when I left.”

It was the first time, since they had buried Haymitch and Peeta had mentioned his mother, that he’d expressed concern or interest in his family’s fate.

“Peeta, why don’t you write them. Let them know that you’re alive at least.”

“Maybe I will,” he said, but the year came to an end and winter turned to spring without him lifting a pen to compose a letter.

Then one day in early April, as he and Katniss were sitting quietly reading, he said, “I’ll bet the trees are coming out in leaf back on the farm.”

She didn’t need to be told which farm he was describing.

“Peeta, family has always been important to you. I know you didn’t leave Pennsylvania on good terms, but don’t you think it’s been long enough to set aside differences?”

He closed his book but didn’t respond. Katniss took it from his hands and laid it on the side table.

“You’re the best person I know for finding ways to build bridges between people. Won’t you consider it with your own kin? You always put us first. It’s time to do something for yourself.”

He frowned, but she could tell he was vacillating. She took his face in her hands.

“Go home, find your own peace,” Katniss encouraged.

“There’s so much work to do, I don’t want to leave you burdened…”

She surprised him by propelling herself onto his lap and attacking him with a fervent kiss. He gasped as she poured all the heat and desire into her kiss, causing him to fall back into his armchair. His body yielded to her when her tongue demanded entry to his mouth, and he was soon returning her passion with equal ardor.

When they stopped to catch their breath, he chuckled. “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.”

“There is no burden you could place on me that I wouldn’t gladly bear for your sake. The way you’ve devoted yourself to our family, the way you stood by us, especially my brothers when everyone else was afraid. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d walk through the fires of hell for you. Go home. Set things right with your brothers.”

One week later Peeta stood on the train station platform, the train ticket in his hand, facing Katniss and his two younger sons as they prepared to send him off.

“It’s only a few weeks,” he said as much to himself as Katniss. “Give Emma and Daisy a hug for me.”

“You know I will, Papa,” David answered.

“And Prim. I didn’t get enough time to say goodbye before school…”

“Prim understands,” Katniss assured him. “She’s going to miss you, we all will, but we want this for you.”

Peeta glanced back toward home and Katniss could see an excuse to stay trying to find its way to his mind as his mouth opened, “Maybe, I…”

“We’re going to be fine, Papa,” Hunter said.

“Don’t worry,” David added, giving his father a farewell hug. “Emma will help Mama with the bakery, and I’ll be close by to lend a hand if needed. And Prim knows all the recipes by heart, so you can be sure she’ll be on top of things,” he joked.

The final ‘All Aboard’ was announced. Peeta hugged Hunter, then turned to his wife. Katniss felt the reluctance to leave in Peeta’s arms as he held her in his embrace. The lines across his forehead deepened. But before he could speak, she placed her hands on the sides of his head and forced a smile onto her face for him. He searched her eyes, and she knew if she hesitated even for a second he would change his mind. Before he could deduce her thoughts, she kissed him so he wouldn’t see her weakening resolve.

“Go,” she laughed. “See your family, and when you are done, we’ll be here waiting.”

He swallowed and nodded. “I’ll be back in time for your birthday,” he whispered. Katniss would be turning fifty next month. She could see glassiness in his eyes, and she almost started to cry. Instead, she gave him one more kiss and gripped his shoulders and turned him toward the train steps.

Once on board, a window opened and he leaned out from his seat, his eyes glued on his family on the platform. The train whistle blew, and the locomotive began to chug as the train pulled out of the station.

The boys waved to their father, and Peeta waved back. But then he raised his fingers to his lips and extended the hand toward Katniss. With an encouraging smile glued on her face, Katniss echoed the gesture in reply. He moved ever farther from her, his eyes watching her, watching him, until the train rounded a curve and she could not see him anymore.

It was only then that it hit her, the full weight of Peeta’s departure. They hadn’t faced this long a separation since he and Finnick had left for Fort Laramie to help with the treaty. She wondered if this was how it had felt for Peeta when she left for St. Louis. For just a second, she saw herself as the Indian wife of a white man returning to his home, his real home, back east. Even her marriage paper had burned up in the fire. But, with so many years of devotion, the absurd idea had too much competition to win out.

Then anxiety replaced sorrow. What if something happened? What if there was an accident? He was traveling so far away. What if she never saw him again? Had she convinced him to leave only to never have him come back to her?

It struck her deeply, flooding her entire body, and with a choking gasp she fell to her knees. David and Hunter were at her side in an instant.

“It’s okay, Mama, he’ll be just fine. It’s only until the beginning of May,” David comforted as she clung to her boys.

She struggled to regain her composure, suddenly embarrassed as she noticed other people staring. With her sons’ help, she got to her feet, and they turned to make their way home.

No one spoke, lost in their own thoughts, when Hunter gave a huff. She and David turned to him.

“I hope he gives them all hell,” he snorted, and they all began to laugh. Katniss wiped her tears and squeezed her youngest son’s shoulders.

 

**NOTE: I have been purposely vague about the fate of the Arapaho nation in this chapter. There is a considerable amount of history that I have not included, but I didn’t want to over-complicate my story with events outside Katniss and Peeta’s life. The Northern Arapaho eventually were settled on the Wind River (Eastern Shoshone) Reservation, Wyoming, in the late 1870s, but before that time, they lived on the Great Sioux Reservation, South Dakota and Nebraska, not having been given a home of their own. My research revealed that they also spent time in Wyoming in accordance with agreed hunting rights.**

**WF parallels the eventual marriage of Levi and Lucinda’s (Peeta and Katniss’s) son to the granddaughter of the Arapaho chief, Lost Eagle (my parallel to Grey Cloud). The circumstances of their meeting were never given in Centennial, so I’ve been creative by assuming they crossed paths in nearby Wyoming.**

**NOTE: I’m sure some of you are going “?” at the Juniper/Gale plot twist.**

**The thing is, I never liked Clemma Zendt’s (Juniper’s) unfortunate fate in Centennial. I ESPECIALLY HATED the non-canon twist used in the mini-series that involved her indirect responsibility for her father’s fatal encounter with a train. :-(**

**I got to thinking about how I could adapt Juniper’s story, and I recalled Oliver Seccombe and Charlotte Buckland’s May-December relationship in the novel. And then I thought about how Gale and Juniper were two disillusioned people living with the ghosts of past mistakes, and well… this is what emerged.**

**One of the main themes of this story is the merciful nature of love, and Gale and Juniper were ideal candidates. I hope when you read Ch.16, an Outtake from Gale’s POV, that you agree.**

**QUOTE NOTE: It’s no secret that I am inspired by both Collins and Michener. There are times when I have used and paraphrased lines from their work, and, for that, I give the authors full credit.**

**THG fans are familiar with the references to Collins’ story. Similarly, in WF, there are certain times when I simply could not improve on Michener’s original wording - it was these moments that inspired me to adapt the story. I’ve tried to give WF my own voice wherever I can, but other times, I’ve followed the original very closely, just like the familiar canon lines from THG.**

**There are two quotes from Centennial that I especially want to highlight. I’ve changed the wording slightly, but the inspiration is all Michener. They are both the declarations of love and devotion that Lucinda and Levi (Katniss and Peeta) exchange in their latter years. The first one is included in this chapter, when Katniss tells Peeta that she would walk through hell for him. The next one, Peeta’s words to Katniss, will show up in Chapter 18. They are two of my favorite lines.**


	16. Outtake - Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A disillusioned ex-soldier, a young woman struggling with her past, and a chance encounter that changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sending love to finduilasnumenesse, titaniasfics, and papofglencoe for being the best Betas I could ever hope to have. bethylark, I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated being able to come to you with questions about Native American culture. What would I do without you all? Hugs!

**Outtake - Second Chances (February - May, 1876)**

“Good evening, Sir,” Joseph said as he held the carriage door open for his boss.

“Thank you,” Gale replied to his driver as he stepped inside. “The closer to home, the better it’ll be,” he murmured as the young man latched the door.

Gale settled back into the padded seat for the eight-mile journey. The Hawthornes owned an elegant house in the nicer part of town, but after his mother passed away, Gale had closed it, leaving it in the hands of a caretaker. He preferred their estate in the country.

Though lovely by the standards of the day, his home was quite modest for someone of his wealth. It also wasn’t convenient, but the place held good memories for Gale. It was where his father had taught him to hunt. Back then, the nearly one hundred acres had represented adventure and freedom. Now it was his refuge from the suffocating crowds and inescapable noise of the factory town of Seam, New Hampshire. It wasn’t that Seam was an unpleasant place. The river that cut through the middle of town was lined with promenades and trees. Prosperity had left its mark, with sturdy brick and stone buildings dedicated not only to housing and industry, but to the entertainment of the population.

As a boy, he’d thought that the deafening drumming of the machines in his father’s factory was mind-numbingly dull. When his parents sent him off to get a higher education, he couldn’t wait to leave.

A dangerous combination of stubborn idealism and youthful arrogance had propelled him into the military, to the disappointment of his parents who had groomed their two sons for the family business. Back then, he’d dreamed of bigger things, of being an integral part of building a stronger, better country. His family’s textile mill had seemed so insignificant in the scheme of things.

Gale was very sure of things back then, so confident in his loyalties. But participating in two wars had chipped away at his strident convictions. War was dirty, but at least he could justify the acts of violence with the belief that he was fighting for the right side. Even so, when Gale was sent out west after over three years of battling the Confederates, the transfer had come as a relief. He’d had the notion that out on those plains he would recapture some of the old idealism that had inspired him as a young officer. But standing on that snow-dusted hillside in Colorado had changed everything.

When Gale first came home, his parents were thrilled to have their eldest son back. His brother had been killed in a freak riding accident, leaving Gale the only heir to the family legacy. Theirs wasn’t the largest mill in Seam, but demand for textiles was high, so they remained competitive. He’d resigned from the military and accepted the mantle of leadership for his family’s enterprise when his father passed away a couple of years later.

For a while, the relentless drone of industry helped drown out the screams that echoed in Gale’s memory, but after so many years, it just gave him a headache. In the past few years, his trips into town became less frequent. Currently, he only came in to check on the factory once or twice a week. Other than necessary trips for business, he rarely left the area. Fortunately, he had a reliable foreman, Boggs.

His father would be appalled at his lack of attention if he was still alive. But what did it matter? One day he’d be gone, too, and there wouldn’t be a Hawthorne running the factory anymore anyway. He’d kept his word and would fulfill his family duty until he was gone. After that, it would be someone else’s problem.

He couldn’t wait to get out of the town and escape to the quiet solitude of the country. Most days he wandered the fields and forests of the property, either on horseback or on foot. He didn’t hunt anymore. When he left Colorado he’d lost the stomach for killing things. Joseph took care of any vermin that became problematic. The man lived in a small cottage on the property with his widowed mother, Sae. She came over each day to take care of housework and prepare meals, but at his request, they left him mostly alone.

Gale imagined that people thought he was rather eccentric. But wealth had its advantages and one was that he could afford to not give a damn what anyone thought.

A cloud of vapor escaped his mouth as he heaved a sigh of relief, and he turned up the collar on his fur-lined overcoat against the cold. Soon he’d be safe and warm, sitting beside the fire with a brandy in his hand.

The carriage turned a corner, and Gale tilted his head to stare out the window. It was the part of town dedicated to factory workers, and, as evening marked the end of another busy day, people were either hurrying home or heading out to drink or carouse.

Midway down the block he happened to catch a glimpse of some kind of struggle in an alleyway. The street lamp barely illuminated the people, but the sight triggered a nightmarish memory. A woman on her knees, one half of her hair unpinned, long and black, yanked back by a well-dressed man as she let out a cry. Her buff-colored cloak reminded him of deerskin, the scene playing out before him so much like it had that horrible day.

“Stop!” he called to Joseph and jumped out of the carriage before it came to a halt. He had no idea why, but he felt if he didn’t intervene it would be another item to add to his burden of guilt.

He reached the alley and got a better look at the heavy-set man, but didn’t recognize him. Perhaps he was a visiting businessman. His face was contorted into a grimace. The woman handed over a wallet to him. He gave her a shove, causing her to tumble to the ground, her head smacking against the brick wall behind her.

“Hey!” Gale said with authority. “What’s going on.” It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation.

The well-dressed man stiffened when he was confronted with Gale’s tall and intimidating form. For the first time in a long while, Gale was glad for his military bearing.

“Thief. Took my money.” The man turned to the woman on the ground. “I should have the police arrest you,” he spit out at her.

The young woman snarled back, “I just took what you owed me.” She got to her feet, leaning back against the brick wall for support. She lifted her chin defiantly.

“As if I’d spend anything on your skinny ass.” But the man hesitated at her accusation, considering his next move. His face flushed red as his eyes flickered toward Gale.

It was the first time Gale got a clear view of the woman with her black hair hanging over one shoulder, the scowl on her face. For a moment the combination of her appearance and his troubled thoughts confused him.

“Katniss?” His whisper was barely audible, and the absurdity made him shake his head. Her eyes flickered in his direction in alarm, as if she heard him. The eyes were wrong. Brilliant blue. Then reality clicked and he recognized, as inconceivable as it was, who she was.

A policeman crossed in front of the alleyway, and the man raised his hand to hail him. Gale saw panic in the woman’s face, and she cowered before her accuser.

“No, please. I can’t go back there…”

Gale pulled out his wallet and started to remove several bills. “How about we just take care of this between us.” The man looked at the money. “No harm done, right? You have your wallet back, and here’s some more for your trouble.” A moment passed, so Gale pulled out a few more bills to sweeten the offer.

After a second of thought, the man grabbed it and, with a final sneer, said, “She’s just a dirty whore, but if that’s what you like, be my guest.” And he stomped off into the night.

Gale sucked back his anger and, turning to the woman, he asked gently, “Are you okay? Where’s home?”

She brought a hand to her head and her eyes grew unfocused. Gale managed to catch her as she crumbled to the ground, limp and unconscious. He felt the slickness at the back of her head and realized it was blood from her impact with the wall. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the carriage. She looked to be maybe five foot five, but he doubted she weighed more than a hundred pounds, even in the heavy cloak.

Joseph helped them both inside, and Gale laid her on the bench with her head resting on his lap, ignoring how her blood stained his expensive coat. Instead he pulled off his scarf and applied it to the wound. Joseph quirked his eyebrows.

“She belongs to a family I knew back in Colorado. They’ve been looking for her,” Gale explained.

Joseph reached over and handed Gale a woolen blanket. “Where to, Sir?” he asked.

What terrible twist of fate had brought her here? Regardless, right now she needed his help. He would get her to safety and find out later. He tucked the blanket around her and answered, “Take us home.”

When he lifted her out of the carriage to enter the house, she stirred with a groan. And then her eyes flew open in panic, and she made a weak attempt to be released from his grasp.

“Easy. You’re injured.” She stopped struggling and closed her eyes, devoid of any fight. Given the dark circles under her eyes, he wondered how long it had been since she’d slept.

Once Joseph had the door open for him, Gale told his driver to go fetch his mother. He carried the young woman upstairs and laid her down on the bed in one of the guest rooms. He removed the filthy cloak to reveal an equally grimy dress. He’d have Sae help with that. But the small smudge of blood on the back of her head demanded attention. He fetched some towels and a basin of warm water from the kitchen and, as gently as he could, unpinned the other half of her hair and cleaned the wound. It had stopped bleeding, so he wiped away the traces from her hair.

A short while later, Gale was standing downstairs beside the fire when Sae entered the parlor with an armload of clothing.

“Do you think I should send for the doctor? Have him check that head wound?” he asked her.

Sae shook her head. “I had a look, and it isn’t too bad. I think she just needs some decent meals and a good night’s sleep. I’ll take these and clean them up tonight.” She tipped her head to the kitchen. “There’s dinner in there for you. I’d have made a plate for your guest, but I have a feeling she needs the rest more right now.”

“Thank you, Sae,” Gale replied. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He awoke earlier than usual after his typical fitful sleep. He had left the door open to the guest bedroom so he would hear if she needed his help. When he peeked inside, she was still asleep. Concerned, he tread silently over to the bed and swept the hair back from her eyes. She stirred and then her eyes fluttered open.

She tried to get up, but groaned and raised her hand to her head.

“Lay still, Juniper,” he said. “You’re safe.”

She frowned. “Who are you? And how do you know my name?” She scrutinized his face, growing nervous. It pained Gale to think she might be trying to remember under what unpleasant circumstances they might have met.

“I’m Gale Hawthorne. It’s been over ten years since you last saw me. But I remember the last time I saw you,” he said with a smile that he hoped calmed her. “It was at your Aunt and Uncle’s in Denver. I was their friend, and your mother’s too,” he added.

She nodded, recognition dawning. “I remember. Your hair was darker back then.”

Reflexively, he ran his fingers through the hair that was liberally salted with grey strands.

She scanned the room and out the window. “Where am I?”

“About eight miles outside Seam. You’re welcome to stay until you’re feeling better. As long as you want, actually.”  
 She pulled herself into a sitting position, the blankets clutched high in her hands, her back against the headboard. “I don’t need anyone’s charity.” Then fear crossed her eyes. He was about to reassure her he had no ill intentions when she revealed what was bothering her.

“I don’t want them to know.”

Gale knew whom she meant. Her parents.

He held his hands up. “There’s time to discuss that later. I had my maid clean your clothes. She’ll be here soon to prepare breakfast and I’ll have her bring your things up so you can dress, if you feel well enough to get up. If not, I’ll have her bring a tray upstairs.”

She gave a terse nod, and he backed out of the room.

Gale had just sat down to eat breakfast when Juniper entered the dining room. He smiled, relieved to see her up and around. He waved to the table. “Help yourself.” She looked too thin. Sae was right, her weakness was likely due to her emaciated state. “How long has it been since you had something to eat?”

Juniper grabbed a sweet roll from the basket. She hesitated with it halfway to her mouth, her eyes narrowing. “If you think I can be bought for food, you’ve…”

“What? My God, no!” Gale was horrified at the thought. The sad thing was, despite her surliness, he expected it wasn’t true.

He saw her scan the room furtively, appraising the value of things. He sighed. He felt like telling her to help herself to whatever she wanted. It was unlikely he’d miss any of it. But he suspected she would be insulted.

“I want to leave.”

“I wish you wouldn’t, but if you insist, I’ll have Joseph drive you back into town.”

Satisfied for now, she nodded, sat down and ate like it was her last meal.

That afternoon he watched her disappear in his carriage down the drive heading back to Seam. He felt sick that he hadn’t been able to convince her to stay, but other than physically restraining her, what was his option? Telling her as she walked out the door, “You know how to find me if you get into trouble,” was the best he could do.

Every evening for the next few days, he sat in the parlor, his eyes frequently glancing out at the drive. Nobody came or went. On the fourth day a storm blew in, bringing wet snow that turned into freezing rain by midday. As it grew dark, it turned back into snow. Gale hated these kinds of days. Though it wasn’t especially cold, the dampness had a way of cutting right through to the bone. As soon as he’d seen it that morning, he was glad he wasn’t expected in town.

Joseph brought in extra firewood, and Sae left a roast turkey dinner that he’d barely touched. He’d been attempting to read, staring at the same page for the last hour, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate. It was getting late, so he finally rose from his armchair, setting the book aside, and prepared to go to bed.

Something caught his eye outside the window as he passed, stopping him dead in his tracks. He pushed the heavy curtains aside and looked again.

Gale wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Because all he could see was heavy snowfall illuminated by the lamp light from the parlor. Then the ghostly figure took form. She was standing out front, white snow sticking to her clothes.

He rushed to the front door and out onto the porch. Juniper stood a dozen yards away, frozen in place, reluctant to approach. Neither of them spoke, waiting for the other to make a move. She hugged herself against the damp chill and looked like she might speak, only to clench her jaw as if in a duel between pride and desperation.

Unsure what else to do, he opened his arms wide and smiled. To his amazement she swiftly closed the distance and fell into them, her head falling against his chest, and he hugged her close.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispered and led her inside.

Her lips were blue, and she was shivering from the cold. Her clothes were soaked from the slush and wet snow, leaving a wet, muddy trail across the floor.

Once she was settled on the sofa, Gale knelt down and unlaced her sodden boots, noting that there were holes worn clear through the soles. He couldn’t help be impressed that she had made it so far in these conditions.

“Wait here,” he ordered and went to fetch a quilt. He considered calling for Sae, but it was already very late. He’d tell Juniper to just leave the clothing outside the bedroom door, and they would deal with it the next morning.

He was about to ask her if she would like something to eat as he returned with the quilt when he froze, his eyes wide with shock.

Juniper was standing with her back to the fire, every stitch of her clothing in a soggy heap beside her. He quickly averted his eyes, but the image of her terribly thin body with its delicate bones showing too prominently under the skin was burned into his mind.

“I don’t care if you see me,” she said. Her voice was unnervingly steady, her eyes sharp and unflinching.

He sighed, and with his eyes glued on the floor, he walked across the room shaking out the folded quilt as he went. He quickly wrapped it around her body.

“I care,” he said when he finally was able to look her in the eye. What he saw was so much misery, but uncertain how to comfort her, he ran his hands up and down her arms to help with circulation.

He moved her over to an armchair and pulled it closer to the fire.

“I’m going to go fix you something to eat.”

A few minutes later, Gale set the plate on the table beside Juniper, and one of her hands slipped out from under the quilt. Ignoring the utensils, she picked up a piece of turkey meat with her fingers. Gale sat down opposite her and watched her eat. Something about it was calming.

“I’ll go light the fire in your room so you’ll be comfortable,” he said and left her to finish the meal.

By the time Gale returned, she was curled up in a tight ball, sound asleep. He carried her upstairs to bed and tucked the blankets tightly under her chin. On impulse, he leaned down and kissed her forehead before he left the room.

That night he slept better than he had in ages. There weren’t any screams in his head to haunt his dreams.

Sae was preparing breakfast when he came into the kitchen the next morning. She nodded at the pile of familiar clothing laying by the door.

“Our guest decided to come back after all.”

“Yes. Hopefully to stay for a while,” Gale responded.

Sae picked up Juniper’s dress, holding the filthy garment safely away from her. “These aren’t worth washing again.”

Gale nodded. “I’d like for Joseph to take you into town so you can pick up some new things for her. Undergarments, shoes.” He thought of his mother and her extensive wardrobe gathering dust. “Stop by my house in town, too. Pick something from Mrs. Hawthorne’s wardrobe to bring back.”

“She’s such a wisp of a thing, it’ll need some altering,” Sae replied. “But I can manage some minor sewing.”

Gale’s mother had been similar in height compared to Juniper, with a stately but big-boned frame. “It’ll do in a pinch until we can get something else custom-made,” he replied.

“Would you like me to arrange for your mother’s dressmaker to come out, to do a proper fitting for her?”

Gale nodded. “Yes, let her know we’ll need her services. Tomorrow, preferably. Tell her I’ll pay triple her usual rate if she can have something made by next week.”

Sae patted his arm in a maternal gesture. “I’ll fetch the lass a dress of mine to wear for today, she said warmly. “She’ll swim in my clothing, but we’ll tie a belt around her, and it’ll do until we have something more appropriate. I’ll take it up with her breakfast.”

“Thank you, Sae.”

“Which of your mother’s dresses should I select?”

Gale shrugged. “Whichever you think best.” But then an image came to mind of a young girl in happier days. “No, wait. I do have something in mind.”

Juniper did not leave her room all day. After lunch, Gale became restless and decided to go out for a ride in the brisk February air to ponder what he should do about his houseguest. He was pleased to see the carriage coming up the drive as he dismounted by the stables. Sae handed him a garment bag and said she’d have Juniper try the dress on when she came up later to prepare dinner.

Gale laid the dress and matching coat on the sofa in the parlor, admiring their simple elegance. Even in her latter years, his mother had maintained a strong, if restrained, sense of style. She’d had a disdain for the excessive ruffles, bows and flounces that were so popular at the time, thinking them ridiculously gaudy. A little more ornamentation might have softened his mother’s stern bearing, but he imagined on someone already as lovely as Juniper, it would be gilding the lily.

The fine wool fabric was extremely soft, in a lovely shade of azure blue. It hung straight and simple at the front, with most of the fullness gathered at the back into an understated bustle. The only embellishment was the ivory embroidered flowers at the collar and down the front edges of the bodice where it buttoned. More floral embroidery followed the hem of the matching coat, but it had the added element of white fur trim, perfect for these cool days.

Sae would need to take in the shoulders and side seams a bit, but he reminded himself to tell her to leave a little extra room. He fully intended for Juniper to regain some needed weight.

He had just poured himself a drink and was leaning against the mantle staring into the fire when he sensed her presence.

“How come you live way out here all alone?”

He turned from the fireplace to where Juniper stood in the entranceway, tugging at Sae’s unflattering frock. Her eye caught sight of the blue dress, and she went to inspect it.

“I prefer it. Besides, with you here, I’m not alone,” he teased and she gave a little snort. He liked the way she seemed to relish running her fingers through the fur trim on the coat.

“This is nice,” she said. “Is it for me?”

“I’m afraid it’s second hand, but Sae will be up later to make any needed alterations. I’m having a dressmaker come out to fit you for some additional pieces, too.”

“Just in time for my birthday,” she said. “It’s next Wednesday.” Her face was unreadable.

“Is that so?” he answered with a smile. “Then consider it my birthday gift to you.”

“I’ll be twenty-two.”

His smile faded as he tried to fathom what she was trying to say beneath her ambiguous tone.

“If you have anything in particular you’d like, a special color or material…”

Ignoring him, she crossed the room with a few determined steps and, taking the glass from his hand, downed the entire contents in one gulp. She set the glass down, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and moved in so close that he found himself backed against the fireplace mantle. The heat from the fire was nothing compared to the shock he experienced when she reached out and grabbed him by the groin.

“Wha..!?” Gale was too startled to articulate the words, but managed to slip to the side of the fireplace and out of her grasp. He gripped the back of the armchair, keeping the piece of furniture between the two of them.

She gave a seductive smile. “Isn’t that why I’m here?” she asked with a hint of bitterness behind the sweet tones. “The fancy clothes, the food, the free bed…”

“No,” he protested and circled back around to her. “I already explained. You’re the daughter of a friend, and you need help. That’s all.”

She narrowed her eyes. The way she stood, so defiant and surly as she appraised him, brought a memory of her uncles to mind. The ones he had deplored with such vehemence. He thought she looked beautiful.

But then her shoulders slumped. “Everyone wants something.”

“Maybe I’m happy for the company,” he answered, realizing how true the words were as he spoke them. “I’d like to think we could be friends.”

“I’m not sure how good I am at friends.”

“Let’s give it a try.” He paused. “And despite what you think, you are the one doing me a favor, letting me help you, so how about we just leave things at that.”

She looked at him with an intriguing mixture of skepticism and curiosity.

After Juniper tried on the blue dress and Sae left to make the needed alterations, the two of them ate dinner in the dining room. The whole time Juniper didn’t speak, but there was a languid half-smile on her face, as if she’d worked out some kind of quandary.

The sun rose bright and cheerful a few days later, so Gale prepared to go for a morning walk after breakfast. Juniper appeared in the hall, looking becoming in the blue dress, just as he had predicted, watching as he buttoned up his coat.

“Would you care to join me?” he asked.

She grinned and turned her back as he placed the fur trimmed coat over her shoulders.

Gale set a leisurely pace as they strolled down to the pond at the south end of his property.

“Do you make this fabric in your factory?” she asked, caressing the soft blue material.

“No. Nothing that fine.” They’d made the same fairly basic fabrics for years. A few nicer cottons, but nothing of the quality of her dress.

“You should,” she answered. “If you did, I bet it would sell well.”

Gale contemplated her suggestion, wondering if such a thing would be profitable, when Juniper spoke again.

“How come you’re not married? You’re rich, and you’re not hard on the eyes.”

He flinched a little at her bluntness. “Never found the right person, I suppose.” He became introspective. “After I left Colorado, it was hard to adjust. I wasn’t very good company.”

How could he explain? After what he witnessed, how his confidence in everything had crumbled. Including in himself. “Things happened, and I didn’t want to feel anymore.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” she said, but it was more pensive than bitter. “Maybe with that in common we could be friends.”

Gale allowed a small smile. Perhaps there was hope for them after all.

The following week Juniper accompanied Gale into Seam for the final fitting of her new dresses. Once she was delivered to the dressmaker’s shop, he said he’d be back by one to take her to dine at the hotel. She rewarded him with a bright smile as he left to go check in with Boggs at the factory.

After they ate, Gale said he needed to stop back at the factory before going home, and she insisted on coming in with him. It created quite a stir, as heads turned with such a young and beautiful woman at his side. He had to admit it was a pleasant sensation.

But what most impressed him was how she asked questions and spoke at length with the women as they finished work for the day. Her forthright manner and lack of pretension surprised and disarmed them all. He felt an unexpected swell of pride when Boggs complimented her on her thoughtful inquiries and intelligent observations.

On their way out of Seam, they picked up the completed dresses and, on a whim, Gale indicated to Joseph he wanted to stop by his house in town. Once the caretaker let them in, Gale led Juniper upstairs to his mother’s room and retrieved her jewelry box. He unlocked the case and waved his hand over the contents.

“You should have something nice to go with your new attire. Help yourself to whatever you like.”

Juniper gave him a sidewise smirk, but then bit her lip and perused the selection. She chose a pair of sapphire earnings. They were fairly modest, but the color looked lovely with her eyes. She looked up at Gale seeking his approval. He couldn’t help be pleased that she’d passed over the much more expensive diamonds and emeralds.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“For now.” She had a twinkle in her eye that made him chuckle.

Her hair was gathered at the back of her head in a bun with masses of ringlets hanging down to just above her shoulders. It was a huge improvement over the way he had found her, but it was missing something.

“Wait here.” Moments later, Gale returned to the room with a small velvet pouch out of which he pulled an exquisite silver comb.

“Your mother’s?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. I bought it when I was in Texas. I’d intended to give it to someone else, but it didn’t work out.”

“You had a sweetheart,” she said with a sly grin.

A small sigh escaped from Gale’s mouth. “No. The whole idea of the gift was misguided, built on an unrealistic, self-indulgent notion. It turned out okay, though,” he mused looking at Juniper. “I’m happy that I can give it to you.”

The thought occurred to him that perhaps it wasn’t that the gift had been wrong. Maybe it was just waiting for the right Everdeen. He reached for the comb and placed it in her glossy hair to one side of the bun. She picked up a hand mirror to check it out and gave him a nod and a smile.

During the ride home, Gale couldn’t remember feeling so content. Juniper was light-hearted, admiring her new dresses and accessories, even laughing as she reminded him about the looks they’d gotten at dinner until he’d explained that she was his ward, a family friend.

She teased that with such spoiling she might be tempted to stick around, and he was struck with the reality that she might leave one day. The thought of going back to his isolated existence drew a somber cloud over his good mood. He’d taken Katniss for granted all those years ago, and as much as it had been a disappointment the way things turned out, back then he’d still been an arrogant young man with the world at his feet. He hadn’t been aware of just how lonely he had become until Juniper and all her youthful energy came into his life.

Gale chastised himself for the thoughts, though, and took heart when Juniper commented how she looked forward to summer when she could wear the airy summer dress into town.

As the weather improved, Gale experienced a rejuvenation of his spirit. He and Juniper would talk freely about business and finances, discuss ideas for improvements and reinvestments. It was an added dimension to their relationship and, more and more, Gale felt less like a benefactor and more an actual friend. He brought up her novel ideas with Boggs when she accompanied him to town. She had an artistic eye and a way with color combinations and patterns when they debated new fabric designs.

As a result, he found himself taking a greater interest in the factory. He told Juniper how, until she showed up, he hadn’t given a thought to how his father had chosen to run the business.

“Why not?” she asked. “Change can be a good thing. Anyway, one should embrace change, it’s inevitable.”

He chuckled and she quirked her eyebrow at him.

“I remember hearing someone say that years ago,” he explained.

When she asked who, he answered, “Me.”

Juniper suggested that they go for a walk one afternoon, and it was such a lovely April day he couldn’t refuse. She’d finally regained the lost weight, and he appreciated her healthy curves and the graceful way she moved. It gave him a deep satisfaction thinking back on the waif of a girl he had rescued from that cold alleyway two months prior.

They reached the picturesque pond that was her favorite spot on the property. Gale took in a deep breath of the fresh spring air, and Juniper commented on all the water fowl that had arrived. The way the sun reflected on the water looked lovelier than he remembered from the past. They stood in quiet contemplation for a time.

“Do you want to know my story?” she asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was small, wary.

He studied her, trying to gauge her intention. “Only if you want me to know. You don’t have to, if you’d rather not.”

Juniper told him all the details of her sordid past in stoic tones. She revealed how Lieutenant Nelson had abandoned her and their baby, how the infant had died of whooping cough a month later. She described her humiliating encounter with Sage, and how she eventually became involved with a con man in Boston. He’d convinced her to try to pass some bad cheques for them, which resulted in her being sentenced to a year in prison. Gale shuddered at the thought. He’d heard stories about what happened to women incarcerated in jails. When she was released, she’d made her way north, hearing there were jobs for women in the factories. But after several weeks of applying, no one would hire her.

Gale could imagine how she would have been turned away by managers and matrons who insisted on strict codes of behavior. Someone looking like Juniper on the day he had found her would not have been considered employable. Not to mention her criminal record or that she had no experience. He was gripped with shame that she’d likely been turned away from his factory, too.

She released a shaky breath. “So now that you know it all, do you regret taking me in?”

“Of course not. I’m even more relieved that I found you. Thank you for confiding in me, Juniper. I’m glad that you would trust me with this.”

The corner of her mouth tweaked up. “You’re the first person who knows all my dark secrets and still accepts me as a friend.”

Gale couldn’t help smile.

Then she gave a light chuckle. “I never would have thought my altercation in that alleyway would have turned into such a piece of luck.”

As much as she thought it was fortuitous for her, helping Juniper had been just as meaningful to Gale, a small, symbolic act of restitution.

“How come you’re being so nice to me?” she asked, her expression now serious.

“Because I have a past I’m not proud about, either. I understand what it’s like to feel as though you’ve failed.”

“Why? What did you do?”

“Rattlesnake Buttes, for starters,” was all he said.

Juniper furrowed her brow in confusion. “It was your story that brought about the inquiry.”

Gale heaved a sigh. “I informed the military what took place and they gave me a letter of commendation. An officer shouldn’t be called a hero for simply telling the truth.”

He closed his eyes and allowed the horrifying images of that day to return to his mind. Juniper’s distraction the past couple of months had helped block them out so they were especially vivid in that moment. He relived the appalling acts of violence, the murders, the mutilations, heard the screams. All of it as it had played out before him while he sat on his horse on that snow-covered hillside.

“I sat back and watched the entire thing,” he said with disgust.

“But you didn’t do anything.” Her voice was gentle, conciliatory.

He turned to her, his eyes hard. “Exactly. I didn’t. Do. Anything.”

When she drew near to take his arm, he furrowed his brow for a second. She was too close. He could feel the curve of her breast through the bodice of her dress as it pressed against his arm. The way her hip brushed against his thigh. Juniper was a guest under his protection. His friend’s daughter. She was also a very beautiful young woman. Her proximity inspired troubling sensations, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It had been a long time since he’d felt that way, and he couldn’t help savor the comfort she was offering just a bit. But anything more and he knew he was playing with fire.

They looked out over the pond, the trees and shrubs coming to life with pale green spring buds. Ducks and geese floated across the water in front of them, oblivious to their presence.

“So many birds,” she said. “They don’t even seem afraid.”

“That’s because they know I won’t shoot them.”

She wrinkled her brow. “I thought you were my mother’s hunting partner.”

Gale frowned. “I haven’t picked up a gun since I left Colorado.”

She nodded in understanding, and they went back to watching the activity on the pond.

“There’ll be hatchlings soon,” Gale said with a small smile, but when Juniper remained silent, he turned to her. Tears were running down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, dismayed that he’d said something to upset her.

“I never even gave her a name. I just walked out of the hospital and never looked back. I blamed her. I blamed my parents… But I was the one who failed them all. I let my baby die.”

He put his arm around her, and she folded herself against his shoulder. He said nothing, knowing there wasn’t anything to say, only the offer of a safe place to mourn.

Emotionally drained, Juniper excused herself early that evening and went to bed. Gale sat for a time, deep in thought, when an idea occurred to him. He grabbed his coat and walked down to the cottage to find Joseph and Sae.

The following week the month of May arrived. Juniper had been so withdrawn that she hadn’t bothered to inquire what had kept Gale so occupied. Late one afternoon, Gale suggested a walk, but she took some convincing before she consented. She was quiet as they made their way along the familiar path to the pond, but even Juniper couldn’t ignore how the woodlands and meadows along the way had come alive. Gale smiled as he watched her periodically stop to pluck a bloom whenever it caught her eye. Eventually she had a small collection of fragrant lily of the valley stems, delicate blue forget-me-nots, fuzzy pussytoes, woodland phlox and multicolored violas, among others.

When they reached the pond, Juniper saw the arbor overlooking the water. She turned to Gale with a quizzical expression, and he gave a hopeful grin and led her over to inspect his surprise.

“What do you think?” he asked. “I’m not the best carpenter in the world, but I had Joseph’s help, and Sae picked out the best spot for the view.”

She approached the arbor and sat down on the bench below its arch. “You did a lovely job, Gale. Now it’s an even nicer spot to come enjoy the pond.”

He sat down beside her, pleased to see her melancholy lifted.

“What’s her name?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“I’m sorry?” she answered, confused.

“Your daughter’s name. What would you like to call her?”

Juniper’s breath caught in her throat, but then she swallowed and looked down at the flowers gripped tightly in her hand. “She was such a pretty little baby, as pretty as a bouquet.”

When she looked at him, her eyes were glassy with tears, but there was a smile on her face. “I’d like to name her Posy.”

He smiled. “This is Posy’s Pond. Just for you and her. So she knows you haven’t forgotten.”

They stayed until the sun began to set, and when they walked back, Juniper reached over and took his hand. He liked the way her fingers wrapped around his.

After that day Juniper was transformed. It pleased Gale to see how free she became with her smiles and how she joked with Joseph and Sae. He couldn’t repress a grin when her melodic laughter reached his ears. He tried to convince her to write a letter to her parents, but on that issue she stubbornly refused. In time, he told himself.

He liked it best when they relaxed in the parlor after dinner, quietly reading or discussing simple things. It was peaceful and uncomplicated. Safe. But one evening, Gale sensed a change in the air, like static electricity tickling the skin on the back of his neck. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes fixed on him, though he could not ignore the way it made his pulse quicken.

“How long has it been since you were with a woman?” Juniper asked.

His face hidden behind the newspaper, Gale gave himself a moment to compose himself. Folding the paper, he placed an easy going smile on his face and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Probably not since you were still wearing little girl dresses.”

His smile faded under the weight of her intense stare.

“I’m not wearing them anymore.”

He gave a slightly exasperated sigh. “Yes, I noticed that. You most certainly aren’t.”

Ill at ease with the conversation, he got up and walked over to the fireplace, though it was too warm for a fire. He leaned against the mantle and gazed into the empty hearth, avoiding her eyes.

She got to her feet, but before she could approach he turned to face her.

“Juniper…” he managed to say.

“There’s no point in lying to each other,” she said. “I know you want me. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I want that, too?”

“It’s not that simple,” he protested. “There are… obstacles.”

She tipped her head to the side, curious. “Obstacles?”

“For one thing, I’m your…” he searched for the right word, “…guardian. For another, I’m fifty-four years old.”

Juniper looked at him with a gaping mouth. Then she began to laugh. Gale frowned, but he felt a grin creep onto his face the way it always did when she laughed.

“Is that all?” she replied. She quirked an eyebrow. “Not that I was a criminal, or how I was a whore?” Though she still had the smile on her face, the laughter left her voice when she added, “Or that I’m a no-good Indian?” Vulnerability lived behind her lovely, blue eyes.

For the first time in the evening, Gale forgot his discomfort. He didn’t see the lost girl he found lying in the street, only the determined and brave young woman. “You were just trying to survive. I could never hold that against you. As for the last one…”

He flashed back to the day Finnick had shown him around so he could see the Indian villages in person. When he had seen another side to the story he’d believed for so long. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

When she slid her arms around his neck, he told her, “There’s no need to settle for me. There are plenty of younger, eligible men who could offer you the life you deserve.”

Juniper ignored him and, pulling his head down, she kissed him. For a moment he gave in to the tantalizing softness of her lips and closed his eyes. But then he pulled her arms from his neck and whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”

She caressed his face. “I love you. Not just for everything you’ve done for me. But because you are a good man. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t hate myself when I look in the mirror.”

He leaned into her hand. Juniper had done the same for him.

She gripped the sides of his face. “I never want to leave your side.”

Gale’s heart constricted with an exquisite pain. “If it’s what you truly want, I will marry you, Juniper. I will love and cherish you for whatever time we have together.”

Threading her fingers in his hair, she drew his face close to hers. “I do want to marry you,” she declared with an affectionate laugh.

Gale’s thoughts turned to Katniss and Peeta. “I’ll write to your parents first thing, ask them to give their blessing.” He frowned. Would they refuse? “If they don’t approve, I’ll find a way to convince…”

She hushed him with another kiss, this one more insistent. “Take me to bed, Gale,” she whispered.

“Juniper, there is a proper way to do this… We should get married first,” he protested, though his resolve was disintegrating at the feel of her hands as they ran down his chest. The way her tongue swept across her lips made him hard.

She gazed up at him, seduction in her eyes. “Since when do I follow the rules? I don’t want to wait a moment longer. Life is fleeting, and we’ve wasted enough of it, don’t you think? Let me love you,” she entreated.

She stretched up on tiptoes and kissed him again, open-mouthed and demanding, and this time he didn’t resist.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered again.

He’d forgotten how intoxicating desire could feel. Maybe he’d never really known.

Her lips traveled along his jawline, working their way up the side of his face. “I’m going to get my way, so you might as well give up,” she teased, her warm breath tickling his ear. “You can’t win.”

Gale released a husky breath. “Don’t I know it.” He pulled her soft curves against him, and this time, when he kissed her, it was her body that yielded to his passion.

She gave a playful cry as he easily swept her up into his arms and carried her to the stairs. He never could win an argument with an Everdeen woman. But Juniper was the first one with whom he didn’t mind.


	17. Lay Your Burdens Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta returns to Pennsylvania, but reuniting with his brothers doesn’t go exactly as he planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hugs to the women who’ve made this story so much better than I could have produced on my own: finduilasnumenesse, titaniasfics, papofglencoe, and bethylark (all on tumblr). Thank you!

**PART 8 - Pennsylvania (1877)**

**Chapter 17 - Lay Your Burdens Down**

All the way east, Peeta tried to make sense of how this journey, that once took him nearly five months in a covered wagon, lasted only a few days. It was as if time itself was rolling backward the closer he got to Pennsylvania. He relived the dangers, the challenges, the frustrations. He thought of Delly and how they had bonded in the face of such a daunting enterprise. But mostly he remembered the tedium of walking for miles, day after day, week after week, alongside the plodding oxen.

Watching the country slip past provided a welcome distraction. If it hadn’t been for his fascination with the steel and steam that sped him down the track, Peeta would have been troubled by the growing separation from his family in Centennial. It wasn’t until the final day of his trip that the looming reunion with the one in Lampeter brought an unsettled feeling to the pit of his stomach.

Peeta hadn't realized he’d been clenching his teeth until the train pulled into the station in Lancaster. As the conductor moved through the car announcing their arrival, he reached up to massage his aching jaw. His bench was across the aisle from the platform, so he did not have a view of the people who might, or might not, be waiting there.

 _Go and make your peace_ , Katniss had told him.

“I’ll do my best,” he murmured to himself as he got to his feet. He reached for his suitcase and joined the queue of people in the aisle. One by one they exited in front of him, but with every forward motion it was as if he was restrained by an invisible load, his feet weighed down so that every step required a deliberate and determined act of will.

When it was his turn, he took a deep breath, lifted his head, and stepped down onto the platform. He recognized three of his brothers, Eli, Jacob and Samuel, at first glance. The dark suits. The neatly trimmed beards framing their square Mellark jawlines. Other than some grey in the hair that showed below their flat-brimmed hats and the new creases on their stony faces, his brothers were exactly as he remembered them.

 _Did I used to look that stiff?_ Peeta asked himself, and the notion made him snicker, helping to ease the knot in his stomach. He put on what he hoped was a warm smile and approached Eli first. When he held out his hand, his eldest brother, without cracking a smile, gave it a quick shake. The other two followed suit. Peeta tried to give allowance for the frosty reception, telling himself that the gulf time had created would take effort to breach.

Peeta asked about his fourth brother, Malachi.

“Died less than a year after you left,” Eli answered. “He was delivering our donations to the orphanage when one of the new horses spooked and flipped the wagon. He was crushed underneath.”

The way Eli described it almost felt accusatory, but Peeta shrugged it off. In the interests of building bridges, he would try and give the benefit of the doubt. His brother, Malachi, had been gone for over thirty years. Peeta wasn’t certain how to mourn him. He’d spent the first two decades of his life growing up next to him, and yet, Malachi felt like a stranger. Peeta asked about their mother. Died back in ’65 from old age, he learned. Of course it didn’t come as a surprise, but even so, facing her loss without Peeta ever saying a proper goodbye brought a lump to his throat.

“You by yourself?” Samuel asked.

Peeta wished Katniss was by his side, but when he had insisted she join him, she shook her head. It was going to be enough of a shock for them just seeing their long-lost brother, let alone having to wrap their heads around his Indian wife, she said. Peeta hadn’t liked it, but he knew she was right.

“My wife stayed in Colorado to take care of our family. We run a bakery that keeps us busy.” It wasn’t a total lie. They accepted his answer, just as he had expected from men who placed high importance on family business.

The three Mellarks led their youngest brother to their wagon. As Peeta climbed up, he caught Eli’s disapproving frown out of the corner of his eye. His brother scanned him up and down, evaluating the colorful western attire he wore that was so out of place among them. Given his surprise at seeing his brothers so unchanged, Peeta could imagine that his own radical transformation was positively disturbing for them.

“You shaved your beard.”

For some reason that small observation struck Peeta as amusing, and he gave a small chuckle under his breath. “Haven’t worn one for years.”

“Still the rebel,” Eli added. Out of anyone else’s mouth, it might have been something of a joke, but, from his eldest brother, it held reproach.

 _Remember why you’re here_ , Peeta reminded himself as they settled in for the five-mile ride to Lampeter.

His brothers’ reception, while cool, was civil, and Peeta injected as much warmth as he could into answering their simple questions about his journey and what it was like out west.

“So you’re married,” Eli said.

“That’s right,” Peeta answered, aware that the tightness in his stomach had returned.

“To that girl you kidnapped from the orphanage?” Jacob asked, tipping his head toward the lane that led to the orphan asylum.

Kidnapped? For someone accused of attempted rape, Peeta guessed it wasn’t much of a stretch.

“I was,” he replied, but added, “Delly came willingly, hoping for a better life. But she died a few months later along the trail.” He paused for a moment as they passed the orphanage. “I married again, though. Been with my wife now for over thirty years.” He smiled to himself.

“Children?” Samuel ventured.

Peeta nodded with a grin. “Five.”

He didn’t offer to share any further details, and they didn’t ask. Peeta figured there’d be time for that later.

Lancaster seemed quieter than Peeta remembered. His impression was validated as they rolled past the section known in the county as ‘Hell Street’ when he was a boy. There still was activity going on, but nothing like the excitement that had intrigued him all those years ago. Or maybe it was his youthful innocence at the time, which, given the things he had experienced in Colorado, made the place seem positively sleepy in comparison.

He recognized the saloon where scantily-clad women had teased a naive young man with their lewd offers to teach him a thing or two. At the time it had both frightened and fascinated him. Now it made him chuckle to himself. Maybe Eli had been correct about his wayward spirit back then.

When Samuel asked what he found so humorous, he pointed up the street and said, “That’s where I bought my conestoga. The owner was having a temper tantrum. I’d never heard anyone curse like that! _‘That’s the last time I spend a dime repairing that damned rear wheel!’_ he yelled at everyone, and started kicking and beating on that wagon.”

His brothers’ eyebrows quirked at his choice of language, even though Peeta had edited the real curse words for their benefit. Then the memory of how that wheel had changed his life came to mind, and he grew wistful.

“You owe the family thirteen hundred and fifty dollars,” Eli grumbled.

“Pardon?” Peeta asked, the wagon forgotten.

“For the horses you stole,” Eli explained.

His words carried such affront that it could have happened yesterday. Even after all these years, could that offense still be on his mind? Peeta didn’t want to get off on such a confrontational footing, so he chose his words with care.

“That’s a pretty specific amount,” he replied.

Eli scowled as if it was a challenge to his integrity. “Three hundred dollars for each horse,” he explained as if engaging in a business transaction. “Six horses. Four brothers. Four and half horses belong to us. You’re only entitled to one and a half of them.”

He spit out the numbers so easily that Peeta knew his brother had been rankling, waiting for just the right opportunity to level the charges of his crime at him. Peeta could imagine how his brother must have debated whether or not to reallocate Malachi’s share when he passed away. He supposed he should be grateful his brother had been so generous in adjusting the split.

A smirk crept onto Peeta’s face. “Front half or back half?” he teased, but Eli didn’t seem to get the joke. “You said one and a half horses,” he added, but the humor was lost along with the explanation. Jacob and Samuel said nothing.

He remembered Matt and his delight over his being a horse thief and couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Rapist, kidnapper, and now horse thief. No wonder each of his brothers looked like he had a pickle up his ass, seeing as how they were welcoming such a degenerate into their midst. Peeta wasn’t sure why he felt so giddy.

“What’s so funny?” Eli asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Nothing you’d understand,” Peeta replied. “I don’t have that kind of money with me. I’ll have to send it to you, if you can handle the wait.”

Eli grumbled, “I’ve been waiting thirty-three years. I’m a patient man.”

 _No_ , Peeta thought, _You’re just a man who can’t let go of old wrongs_. But instead he answered with a humble smile, “I guess I should thank you for not charging me thirty-three years of interest.”

“Usury’s a sin,” was all his brother said in reply.

Peeta reflected on the petty attention to small rules. It seemed that was another thing that hadn’t changed. He considered that in this instance he should be grateful, but with a private smirk, he decided not to share that he’d made a tidy profit when he got six hundred dollars for each of those horses.

Peeta turned his attention away from his brothers and noticed that an old, familiar storefront had changed.

“What happened to Fordney’s rifle shop?” he asked.

“Fordney got attacked with an ax by an insane neighbor back in ‘46. Both he and the woman who lived with him were killed,” Jacob mentioned.

Peeta furrowed his brow in remorse and shock, his mood darkening at hearing the news. Melchoir Fordney had been one of the few people who wanted anything to do with him after he got shunned. The man sold him the rifle he’d brought west with him.

“That’s a real shame. Not only did he make a fine rifle, he was a good man,” Peeta responded.

“He was a fornicator,” Eli snorted. “Both he and that woman. They were never married.”

“They probably had a common-law agreement,” Peeta said, knowing a little about the arrangement himself and feeling the need to defend them.

“It was God’s justice that struck down that unrepentant sinner for living with a woman outside proper wedlock.”

Peeta heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his face, which caused his brothers to frown in his direction. Maybe it had been a mistake coming home after all. For the first time on the trip, he was grateful Katniss had refused to come.

As the wagon drove through the familiar countryside, Peeta noted every barn, every fenced field, all the old hardwood trees that he knew from memory. He could imagine he was twenty-four again, sitting alongside his brothers as they made their way home. When they turned down their lane and he got the first glimpse of his old home, it was oddly jarring to his senses. So much the same, and yet there was something not quite right about it.

Out front stood a collection of women and children of varying ages, gathered at the Mellark patriarchal home to welcome him. Introductions were made, with Peeta receiving a variety of greetings: cautious smiles from the women to curious stares from the children. Since none of his brothers had been married before he left Lampeter, he’d never spoken a word to any of them before. All except for one. Eli’s wife, Hannah. His accuser, the catalyst for his expulsion.

She stood to the side and near the back of the crowd, her eyes darting away when she saw that he recognized her. On a day with so many things trapped in the past, her transformation stood out. She seemed older than her years, a woman worn down by life. There was no flirty smile on the cupid bow lips that had seemed so enticing once upon a time. The first lips he’d ever kissed. Badly. He wondered if she’d had any good ones. He thought of all the glorious kisses he and Katniss had shared. From the downcast look on her face, it appeared that marrying his brother hadn’t turned out quite the way Hannah must have expected. She didn’t say a word, but flushed slightly when he greeted her by name.

Peeta was woken up very early the next morning by a hum of familiar activity down in the huge kitchen. It was Friday, one of the two market days of the week. He lay in bed, considering going down to lend a hand. After another hour had past, he got up and dressed. Perhaps he would go into Lancaster and spend the day with his brothers helping out. By the time he came downstairs, they were finishing loading the wagon with a plethora of baked goods.

He leaned over to inspect the colorful iced pastries. _I guess they did find someone to replace me_ , he thought.

Samuel tipped his head in the direction of his house. “My wife does the decorating now,” he explained. Peeta nodded in approval, but with a tinge of pride, he knew his work was better.

No one asked if he cared to join them, and after a moment of indecision, Peeta announced he wanted to stay home, visit his mother’s grave to say a private goodbye, and spend some time checking out the farm after all his years of absence.

Even as he said it, the pull to wander among the ancient hardwoods and fields of his youth coalesced in his heart. He wasn’t ready to face a whole day with his brothers and what would possibly be a long line of inquiries from people curious about Lampeter’s long-lost son returning home.

Eli gave a quick nod, seemingly relieved not to have him tag along, and announced that tomorrow the Reverend Schroeder would be joining them for dinner. The thought made Peeta wince. He remembered him as a rigid man like Eli, how he had presided like an Old Testament judge at his shunning. He was amazed that the man could still be alive. He’d seemed old even back then.

His apprehension was replaced by surprise when Saturday dinner rolled around and a much younger man and his pretty wife showed up. Seeing Peeta’s confusion, the man introduced himself as Abram Schroeder, the previous reverend’s son.

As the elders sat at one massive table with the younger generation seated at another beside them, Peeta gawked at the array of food. His thoughts drifted back to the cabin in the mountains and how, as he was slowly starving to death, he had remembered such a spread. A grin emerged as he thought of the humble meals he and Katniss had shared up at that cabin, so much more precious than the excessiveness that lay before him now.

Once grace was said, and the reverend complimented the wives for their hard work, Peeta’s smile was misinterpreted as joy at being reunited with such marvelous cooking.

“Be sure to save room for dessert,” Reverend Schroeder laughed. “The Mellarks are still the best bakers in the region!”

 _Actually, I was thinking of the much more pleasurable ‘desserts’ I shared with Katniss_ , Peeta thought to himself, and he wondered if they saw him flush a little at the fond memory.

With sincere interest, the reverend inquired about Peeta’s life in Colorado. All eyes turned to him. The family hadn’t broached the topic. Peeta wondered if their reticence stemmed from fear about how his life in exile might reflect upon them.

 _Well, let them hear about it_ , Peeta thought, and he took a deep breath.

He started out with a description of the trip out west with Delly. They listened with polite silence as he gave account of the experience culminating with his first wife’s tragic death. There were even a few expressions of condolences for the loss of a woman to whom none of them would have likely given the time of day when she was living among them. The memory of old hypocrisies fed his doubt in their sincerity, causing an iciness to seep into his blood.

“But I understand you remarried,” Abram said, “That you have a family.”

“Yes,” Peeta answered, “I have three sons and two daughters.” Peeta’s heart began to pound as he looked around the table.

He grasped onto the silence and began to paint a picture of his time in Colorado. Using broad strokes, he described some of the things he had witnessed, others in which he had been a direct participant. They were the events that had shaped the land, transforming it from a wilderness into a full-fledged state, warts and all.

He skirted around the edges of the more personal details, mentioning to surprised faces how he had participated in the Fort Laramie Treaty, only to watch it be flagrantly disregarded by the government, and how years of conflict had taken its toll. He recounted the massacre and how his family had been targeted for taking a stand against bigotry and injustice. He didn’t miss the surprise on his brothers’ faces how, for a time, there’d been a town named Mellark’s Farm before the people had the good sense to give it a more worthy name. Lampeter’s most prominent family had never been honored in such a way by their home town, and Peeta noticed his brothers twitch at the insult he managed to inject along with the boast.

Peeta saw how his vivid description of violence and suffering, of endurance and achievement, made its impact on the people around the table. A dormant hurt stirred inside him. People whose loyalty was so thin that they could let petty issues, like an accidentally-ripped dress or the price of a few horses, rip a family apart, stood in stark contrast to the real struggles of life back in Colorado.

Deep-seated anger, long thought to be forgotten, crept into his words. A desire to answer judgment with judgment.

 _Why am I doing this?_ Peeta asked himself. He’d come here hoping to heal the rift between them. But as the details of his life poured out, he’d stopped thinking about building bridges. Each shocked countenance inspired his need to blow up any bridge that still remained. Family harmony be damned!

“Would you like to see a photograph of my wife?” he asked, his voice steady despite his inner state of mind.

He was answered with polite affirmation, so he excused himself from the table and went up to his room. When a photographer came to town for the Centennial celebrations, the family had been excited at having their first photographs taken. Several portraits were purchased, but, for this one in particular, Peeta had made a special request. He wanted one of Katniss in her wedding dress. The pearlescent deerskin contrasted with the deep olive tone of her skin; the elaborate beading, the fringe and shell ornamentation, her braided hair, and jewelry highlighted her heritage.

He beheld the photograph, momentarily losing himself in her beautiful grey eyes and high cheekbones, in the body that had given him five children, restoring a family that he’d lost. He ran a finger across her image with reverence, his heart filled with love. His mind drifted back to a cabin in the mountains, and the young woman who had loved him, had offered her lithe body to him, so exquisite, and yet, no more desirable back then than she was now.

But as he made his way down the stairs, another emotion was kindled in his heart, one whose motivation was not so pure. As the darkness inside bloomed, he couldn’t find the will to stop it.

He took his seat and handed the photo to his left, and clockwise it went, leaving wide eyes and gaping mouths in its wake. With every new person who beheld the image, Peeta’s elation grew. It was time for them to come face to face with their sanctimony.

When the photo reached Eli at the head of the table, he frowned, looked over at Peeta and said, “She’s…”

Peeta waited a beat, then finished for his brother, “Arapaho. Indian. Her father was a French Canadian fur trapper who took her mother as a wife to facilitate trade with her tribe. She was his ‘left-hand’ wife, being how he was married to another woman back east.”

His eyes were piercing as he stared down Eli, challenging him. But his brother remained silent, too stunned to speak, to Peeta’s growing delight. He spoke with pride about a huntress whose lethal aim could take down an elk, and whose courage inspired the ruination of a despicable militia colonel.

“After Delly died, I thought I’d lost everything. My family had unjustly turned their back on me. I’d left Pennsylvania in disgrace. I was left with no reason to hope.” Peeta gave a moment for the insinuations to take root. Then he closed his eyes and whispered, “I’d be dead, too, if it weren’t for my Katniss.” He described how she discovered him near death and nursed him back to health. Without shame he spoke of how they had found love up in those mountains. “I’d have nothing if not for her.”

Looks were exchanged showing a mix of embarrassment and captivation. They weren’t used to sharing such romantic or explicit tales. Peeta enjoyed watching their discomfort.

“That’s the dress Katniss’s mother made for her when we got married. That elk she shot? Her mother made me a matching shirt from that skin for my wedding garment.”

Stirred by curiosity, the nieces and nephews jumped up from their table to lean over their parents’ shoulders for a glimpse of the photo. Jacob’s eldest daughter looked up, wide-eyed, at her uncle and asked, “That’s her wedding dress? What did they say in your church?”

If her expression hadn’t been so innocent, Peeta might have been less gentle. Instead he explained with an even voice that there hadn’t been a church, or even a minister, where they lived. It had been too remote.

“Then how…?” she added with a perplexed brow.

He laughed, “We married ourselves. I wrote it all out on a paper, and Katniss and I signed it along with witnesses. It was the same with my first marriage actually, since no respectable minister would marry us,” he added not bothering to disguise his derision.

“You mean you’re not even…” Samuel’s wife gasped.

They couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to be so bereft of comfort and security, so stripped bare that a love could transform one’s very spirit. How what he and Katniss shared was so much more connected to the divine than what their inflexible traditionalism allowed them to grasp.

Peeta leaned forward and said slowly, “It was between the two of us and God, and the rest is no one else’s business.”

“Is she even Christian?” someone else asked, but by that point Peeta was too lost in the moment to notice who spoke.

“She received some religious instruction in a Catholic convent,” was all he said in reply, watching them exchange glances. Katniss didn’t need to provide any explanation to these people who had already judged her.

Eli’s glare brought to mind all the ugly aspersions he’d heaped on Peeta at his shunning, _‘Son of Satan, only fit to live among savages…’_ Peeta noted each brother and sister-in-law’s reaction and felt a bitter satisfaction at how they squirmed in their seats. But he wasn’t finished yet.

“Her father was named Everdeen. His sons, Katniss’s brothers, were quite notorious.”

Peeta could see by their reaction that, even way out here in sleepy Lampeter, the Everdeen name and infamy was known.

“They were killers,” he admitted, “but they were family and I loved them. They and their people have known suffering you couldn’t possibly imagine.”

Peeta expounded on how he and Katniss had built a successful life out of nothing, in a place that challenged a person at each step, that demanded something more extraordinary just to survive. That connected people to the land and to each other in unique ways they couldn’t begin to understand. He hit a final triumphant note when he spoke with pride about his children, their talents and the diverse paths their lives were taking them. Their courage after having seen and endured so much.

Wanting to place a final punctuation on his account, he finished by saying, “I would trade none of it, not even the worst of what I’ve seen or experienced, for all of this.” As he waved his hand about, his contempt was clear.

The family gathered around the table was speechless. Peeta turned his hard gaze to the reverend to his right, who now held the photo in his hand. To his astonishment, Abram gave him a smile and congratulated him on having such a lovely and remarkable wife.

“I’m sorry that she didn’t accompany you to Pennsylvania. I would have very much liked to meet her.” He glanced about the table meeting each set of eyes. “As would the rest of the family, I’m sure.”

There were a few uncomfortable murmurs as the family attempted to regain some decorum and the platters and bowls of food were passed around.

His rant now finished, all of Peeta’s resentment-fueled fire was gone. He’d hardly eaten a bite. The tightness in his gut had ruined his appetite, leaving him sick to his stomach. He’d wanted to humiliate them all for their self-serving hypocrisy and rejection by heaping his righteous judgment on them in return. To make them feel what he had felt all those years ago. But at what cost? He’d probably destroyed any chance for reconciliation and, worse than that, he’d used the person he loved most as the means to inflict injury. He was disgusted with himself and stared down at his plate heaped with food he didn’t want or feel he deserved.

Peeta happened to catch the compassion in the reverend's eyes. He regretted that the man and his wife had been on the receiving end of his anger intended for the Mellark family, after his gracious words regarding Katniss.

After dessert was finished, the reverend addressed the gathering. “I would like to offer a special prayer,” Abram announced and everyone bowed their heads in obedience.

He gave the expected words of thanks, not only for the bounteous array of food that they’d shared, but for how Peeta’s misfortune had been turned into good. He marveled at Peeta’s remarkable life, his dedication to helping the Indians by serving as an agent of justice for them. He praised Katniss for her devotion and love for saving Peeta’s life, and for the courage of his family in standing up against evil-doers. But he also chastised the entire Mellark family for having such little regard for each other to let so many years pass without contact. And he reminded them all about the need for forgiveness and healing, that they were all imperfect and in need of love.

He finished by saying, “Let our sister, Katniss, know that she is welcome here, that she and her children are family, and we will keep them in our prayers.”

Despite the reverend’s words, Peeta wasn’t in a healing mood. He lifted his bowed head to find Eli’s blue eyes fixed on him, and saw there was no inclination there, either. His brother’s mouth was curled down at his outcast brother’s insolence at disrespecting him in front of the rest of the family and their guests. Nothing had changed.

When they were done, Abram said he had a sermon to prepare for tomorrow and rose to depart. Peeta walked the reverend and his wife outside to thank him for his kind words of support.

“I hope you’ll attend tomorrow, Peeta. I think you might find the topic of my sermon of special interest,” he suggested.

“The Prodigal Son?” Peeta asked with a cynical smirk.

The reverend laughed, “No, actually Joseph and his troubled relationship with his bothers.”

Peeta reflected on the story of the Old Testament hero sold into slavery by his jealous brothers, only to be the agent of their eventual deliverance. He doubted that the Mellarks would share the same positive fate.

“Well, I don’t have a coat of many colors, but I do have that beautiful beaded elk skin shirt that my mother-in-law made for me when I married her daughter.”

“I wish you’d brought it with you, “ Abram said. “I’d like to have seen that.” He reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Change is slow back here, Peeta. It makes men like your brothers uneasy. But it will come. I hope you’ll be patient. They haven’t had to face what you have, to experience their very foundations turned upside down, just to survive.”

Peeta was filled with respect for the young man and his open, accepting ways. Peeta wondered if the reverend had noticed the looks of scorn he’d received for daring to scold his brothers, if he knew that his tenure at their church might be short. You didn’t embarrass one of Lampeter’s wealthiest families without consequence.

“I hope you’ll take what I said about forgiveness to heart, too, Peeta. For your own sake.”

Peeta promised he’d try, even though he wasn’t sure if it was possible. Reluctant to return to the house, he headed down past the barn and climbed the fence. Sitting on the top rung he looked out over the trees that used to give him such happiness as a boy. They weren’t his trees now. He didn’t belong here anymore.

The boy he’d been had died up on that mountainside, leaving him forever changed. He was connected to rugged mountains and vast plains, to untamed lands where a man’s soul wasn’t hemmed in with neatly planted hedgerows and uniform white fences.

He was soon joined by a collection of the younger Mellarks, his nieces and nephews.

“Did you really see your wife’s brother kill another Indian with a knife, Uncle Peeta?” one of them asked.

“I did.”

“And then that soldier shot him in the back?”

“No. That was the younger one. Right after I buried his older brother whom they’d hanged.”

“They burned down your home?”

“My wife was brave enough to stand up for her people, so yes, some of them wanted to punish us.”

“Your wife can really hunt with a bow?”

“She can hit a squirrel right in the eye, every time,” Peeta said with a grin.

Their questions went on, sincere and inquisitive, and he thought that maybe it was with the younger generations, in progressive young men like Abram and his brothers’ children, where the hope lay. By the time he went to bed, a minor miracle had taken place. He was feeling somewhat better.

After church, Peeta patiently responded to a mix of morbid curiosity and genuine interest. At one point he was asked if he intended to come back permanently, to rejoin the family bakery. It was mentioned how they still talked about the wonderful creations he used to make. He noticed Samuel flinch and his wife’s eyes grow large. Standing next to them, Eli and Jacob grew pale and tight-lipped.

 _Maybe Abram should have talked about the Prodigal Son after all, Peeta mused. Could it be that all this time they were most worried I might return to reclaim my place here? To demand a share of an inheritance they don’t think I deserve?_ Pride and greed. Since he returned, Peeta had exposed both vulnerabilities in his need to hurt and humiliate them for the way he’d been treated.

With Abram’s words in his mind, Peeta sought an opening to salvage the visit, to extend an olive branch, to be the better person. He’d never amass the wealth of his brothers, but he was infinitely more wealthy in spirit. It made him feel generous enough to want to put them at ease.

As the family prepared to go home, he grabbed Eli’s shoulder. “I don’t want you and the rest of the family to worry. I know I’m not wanted here, regardless of what Reverend Schroeder says. And I have no intentions of coming back.” His brother regarded him with caution as he spoke. “I don’t belong in Lampeter anymore. Colorado is my home.”

By the time they reached the farm, Peeta announced that he’d decided to cut his visit short. He gave the excuse that he’d left a lot of work for his family and he was needed there.

No one protested. He would exchange his ticket for the next train home, departing on Tuesday. Barely a dozen words were exchanged between Peeta and his siblings during those remaining hours of his visit. Eli was conspicuously absent from the farm all day Monday.

But, with a measure of satisfaction, Peeta noted that things were more cordial with the family. And there were the children, who found ways to get him aside to ask more questions. He answered them all with pleasure. He told them about the brave chief Grey Cloud who had fought so hard for peace. He described the once impressive buffalo herds and the breathtaking scenery. It wasn’t what he had hoped to accomplish, but maybe Abram was right about change. It gave him a measure of optimism as he prepared to leave.

He was going home! He couldn’t stop smiling and even offered to help on Monday with baking and preparing for market day, showing Samuel's wife some of his decorating tricks.

Peeta rose early with his family on Tuesday morning to help prepare the final items for the market. While they loaded their baked goods on the wagon, he went to fetch his packed suitcase, eager to be on his way.

Peeta wasn’t expecting to find Hannah waiting by the door when he came down the stairs. Her hands were clutched in front of her so that the knuckles were white. He could see her lips move, but the words were unintelligible.

“I’m sorry?” he said, and placed his suitcase on the floor.

She looked up, her posture meek, and murmured, “I told Eli the truth, about what really happened, when we received the telegram about you coming home.”

Eli had known all this time and hadn’t said a word. The bile threatened to rise again in his throat, but, seeing this woman so contrite, he swallowed it down.

 _I came here to set things right_ , he thought. Maybe this was one thing he could do.

The corners of her mouth turned down. “I’m sorry I ruined your life.”

Not that she was sorry she used him as part of a scheme to manipulate his brother. Not that she lied about what happened, letting him be accused of a despicable act. But that she presumed that his life had been irreparably damaged because of her. Had she heard nothing he said? He let out a small, astonished laugh, which made her look at him with confusion.

Feeling suddenly quite bold, Peeta reached out and grabbed his sister-in-law’s hands in his own and, leaning forward, he gave her a big grin.

“Oh, Hannah, you didn’t ruin my life. As a matter of fact, I owe you a great debt of gratitude. If it hadn’t been for what you did, I wouldn’t have met and married two extraordinary women. Or known the woman whom I love more than anything, experienced a love that I couldn’t have imagined. It’s because of you that I found a much better life. The best one I could have hoped for. Thank you.”

The worried frown on her face transformed into a perplexed smile. He released her hands and told her he forgave her.

Before he climbed up into the wagon with his brothers, he asked the wives that they say goodbye to the children for him, to let them know they were welcome to come out and visit their cousins anytime they liked. And to thank Reverend Schroeder once more for him. They assured him they’d pass along his messages. Maybe they would, Peeta thought.

Once the baked goods were unloaded at the market in Lancaster, Eli and Peeta continued on alone to the train station. The two men stood in awkward silence for a moment before Eli reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope and handed it to his brother.

“What’s this?” Peeta asked.

“Something I hope you will consider,” Eli replied, his eyes hard.

Ignoring the chill it gave him, Peeta stuffed it into his coat pocket and, as one last attempt of goodwill, held out his hand. Eli hesitated for a second, but then gave it a quick shake. It was just like when he had arrived. With a tight nod and a formal farewell, Eli climbed up onto the wagon and drove away.

“So that’s it,” Peeta muttered, and went inside to change his train ticket.

He returned outside and found a bench to sit on to wait for the next few hours until his train arrived. A young man sat down beside him and gave a friendly nod.

“It must be hard to leave home again after so long,” he said.

Peeta gave him a quizzical look. “You know me?”

“It’s not a big place,” he said with a chuckle. “And everyone knows the Mellarks and their baked goods. But my Ma says it was never the same after you left.”

Peeta gave him a smile.

“I’ll bet they’re sorry to see you leave.”

 _You don’t know the half of it_ , Peeta said to himself. “I’ve got family and a business back in Colorado to get home to,” he answered.

“Family’s important,” the young man agreed. “I’m heading up north, and I’ll sure be missing mine.”

“Where you heading?” Peeta asked.

“New Hampshire. I’ve got a job waiting for me.”

Peeta wondered how Juniper was doing. He shook his head at all the effort he’d dedicated to his family in Lampeter, how he would trade it all to have her reach out to him again.

The young man got up to go buy a newspaper from a vendor, and Peeta was reminded of Eli’s envelope. He took it out of his pocket and removed two pieces of paper. One was some kind of broadside notice. The other was a letter. Curious, he unfolded Eli’s letter first, and, with each word he read, all of Schroeder’s hopeful rhetoric disintegrated.

_Brother Peeta,_

_You have shamed the family greatly with the disrespectful way you talked about our family in front of our reverend and his wife. And I am most grieved at how you have corrupted the children with your stories of violence and sin._

_I understand that you probably felt you had to marry that Indian after she saved you and the shameful things that happened outside proper marriage. And with her being a sister of those Everdeen murderers, too. But you can do something to help repair the damage you’ve done to our reputation. You can set things right with God and with the family._

_I’ve given you a notice about a new law that is designed for white men such as yourself who felt pressured to marry an Indian woman so as to keep the peace, back when there weren’t any soldiers to shoot them. All you have to do is go to the courthouse and say you want to divorce the Indian that you felt forced to marry and they will tell you how to do it. Nobody else here has to know about it. And it won’t cost you a thing._

_Your brother, Eli_

Wouldn’t cost him a thing?! At the bottom was a postscript.

_Don’t forget you still owe the family $1350 for those horses._

He sat on the bench in front of the train station, the vicious and hateful letter clutched in his hand. Every muscle in his body convulsed, starting low and working its way up until his face was screwed up from the rage and agony burning in his heart. His eyes were clenched shut, and he fought hard to breathe, a string of expletives escaping with each gasp.

He was incensed at the thought that Eli could insult the most important person in his life. There was no deeper wound that his brother could inflict on him than to go after Katniss, a woman that he’d never even met. The woman who was so smart and knew more about the world than his brother could ever hope to comprehend, brave enough to stand against injustice without flinching. The woman who had borne his children and who’d given him a life, too. The woman that he’d wanted more than anything else in the world.

Women like Laughing Bird and Katniss, by marrying white men, had welcomed them and shared their land and its resources. He and Haymitch, exiled by their own people, had found acceptance with men such as Katniss’s brothers, allowing them to build their trading post and forge respectful relationships.

But his brother, the one who’d cast him out and never apologized for the wrong, had the audacity to say he should toss Katniss aside for the sake of the family? All because of her race? It was, for Peeta, unforgivable.

During his brief stay in Lampeter, Peeta had started out with tentative hopes of reconciliation, and was prepared to accept responsibility for his part in the estrangement over the years. He’d even experienced shame for his own vindictiveness during Saturday’s dinner. But, with this letter, his family’s rejection was complete. And he was done with them, too.

 _I’m sorry, Katniss,_ he apologized in his mind. _You overestimated my ability to repair the damage._ It left him wracked with despair and regret. But then, out of the pain, an odd and unexpected image came to mind.

He thought of that summer he’d spent with Matt, back when Katniss was in St. Louis, and he first heard about the buffalo skulls. He learned how young warriors would pierce their backs with skewers and drag heavy buffalo skulls tethered to lines of rawhide, around and around, in an act of supplication and sacrifice for the wellbeing of the tribe. Matt had lifted his shirt and proudly shown Peeta the scars on his back where the sharp spikes had ripped through his skin.

At the time, Peeta had been shocked by the brutality of the ceremony, despite Matt’s assertion to the contrary of how it reconnected him to life and rejuvenated his spirit. But in that moment, Peeta understood something of what Matt had tried to explain to him. He recalled his heavy feet when he arrived in Lancaster. It occurred to him that he was dragging the burdens of the past with him. Even as he strived forward with his new life in Colorado, never looking back, it had still been there, shadowing him, all these many years.

He thought of the Indians with the skulls that they dragged over the ground, the self-inflicted pain they took on themselves. And he thought they did it better. Because they let those burdens break free, leaving them in the dust.

Peeta closed his eyes and envisioned it. He felt the pain of the skewers piercing his back and the terrible burden of those skulls, representing all the rejection and his own lack of ability to let it go and forgive. He bore the weight of all the guilt and brokenness. He experienced the terrible agony as it tore at the muscle and skin of his flesh.

“Are you okay, sir?”

He opened his eyes, a bit stunned for a second. It was the young man leaning down, a hand on his shoulder, concern written across his face.

Peeta reached up to touch his face and realized that he’d been crying.

“Yes, son. I’m okay now,” he answered as the whistle of the approaching train announced its arrival at the station.

“Well that’s my train,” the young man said, reaching for his bags.

Katniss had told him to come here, to fix things with his family. Maybe some bridges were irreparable, but it occurred to him that there was still hope for others. The ones between Peeta and his own family. This trip didn’t have to be a waste. As he looked at the train bound for New Hampshire, a smile found its way onto his face. His journey wasn’t over yet. He’d just gotten a little waylaid along the path.

Peeta rose to his feet to leave Lancaster for the second and last time.

And as he walked across the platform, his new ticket in hand for the train bound for New Hampshire, those skulls representing all the burdens he’d been carrying broke away, and he left them laying in the dust of Lancaster along with the shredded letter and attached notice.

He’d found his peace. It wasn’t the one with his brothers that he’d sought. It was the one within himself.

 

**NOTE: The legislation described in the notice that Eli gives to Peeta was included in Michener’s story, but I couldn’t find any specific historical example to back it up. It may refer to anti-miscegenation laws of that time. I have included it, with wording that closely resembles Michener's version, in this story for dramatic effect.**

**NOTE: Peeta visualizing the dragging of the buffalo skulls (one of the many forms of participating in the Sun Dance ceremony) is inspired by one of my favorite moments in Centennial. While I have expanded the scene a bit in WF, all the credit belongs to Michener for incorporating the powerful imagery and symbolism in this part of his novel.**


	18. Love In Its Perpetual Significance, Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss hopes spending a day on the prairie will provide some comfort during Peeta’s absence, but an unexpected arrival in town takes her by surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the story of Katniss and Peeta comes to a close, I need to send some love to the following wonderful people:
> 
> finduilasnumenesse, titaniasfics, and papofglencoe for being the best Betas a writer could dream to have.
> 
> bethylark - for offering your help and giving encouragement whenever I had questions about Native American culture
> 
> I appreciate you all so very much! :’-)

**PART 9 - Colorado (May, 1877)**

**Chapter 18 - Love In Its Perpetual Significance, Pt.1**

If Katniss thought that throwing herself into the extra work that Peeta’s absence created would make the weeks go easier, she was sorely mistaken. The separation had only made the days and the tasks more difficult. An internal conflict waged its battle, leaving her preoccupied. On one side, she hoped Peeta’s visit was going well. But there was another side, one that wasn’t so strong, that hoped it wasn’t. It was rooted in a fear that, if things went too well, somehow he might rediscover how much he missed his old life and home. That he’d forget how much more he was needed back here in Colorado. How much she needed him.

There were times when she’d wake in the dark, her heart pounding, swearing she could hear the familiar cadence of his heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs and down the hall to their room. As the days ticked by, the dreams intensified in concert with her growing anticipation of his return.

Peeta was due home on the first Friday in May. Today was the first day of the month, and crossing that milestone left her even more distracted than usual. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but she, Emma, and Prim were already up preparing the bread doughs and rolling out pastry for the day. When she neglected to watch the ovens, allowing an entire batch of cookies to burn, Emma told her to take the day off.

“We’ll get more done if you’re not here,” she gently teased her mother-in-law.

Katniss had been putting up a brave front, but the family could see that she wasn’t dealing with the separation very well. A potential remedy tugged at her soul, awakening a need to get away from town and immerse herself in nature’s therapeutic arms.

“Maybe I’ll go hunting. Get outside and enjoy the day.”

Prim added, “There’s still a couple hours before school starts, and I can help in the afternoon, too, when I get home.”

Guilt caused Katniss to deliberate for a moment, but then she took off her apron as ordered, and changed into her hunting clothes. Not her old deerskin dress. Sadly, it had been lost in the fire. A cotton, dun-colored print one, which blended well with the environment, now sufficed. She decided against taking her mare, and set out walking east into the prairies, into the sunrise.

On foot, she didn’t go far. There wasn’t much to hunt this close to Centennial, but she was only half-hearted about hunting anyway. She hadn’t even brought her game bag, instead grabbing a canteen with water and stuffing a snack in the pocket of her light coat. It was more out of habit that she slung her bow case and quiver across her shoulder on her way out the back door.

Katniss was about two miles outside the town limits when she stopped to enjoy the peacefulness of early morning. The sun was still low on the horizon, casting long shadows, but the dew was already burning off. No wildflowers this year, she thought wistfully as she noted the arid feel to the air even this early in the morning.

She slipped the bow and quiver from her shoulder and sat cross-legged on the ground, the fresh blades of spring grass providing a soft cushion. After eating her snack, she reached over and plucked a sprig of new sagebrush and brought it to her nose for a sniff. Its tender leaves were soft and velvety against her lips, and the scent filled her with a sweet longing.

 _Only a few more days_ , she reassured herself.

The day was already growing warm, so Katniss took off her coat and rolled it up into a bundle. Lying back on the grass, she used it as a pillow. Twirling the sage between her fingers, she stared up at the wispy clouds that streaked across the blue sky.

Nearby, a deep, whooping vocalization caused her to sit up. It was the classic call of a male prairie chicken, his sonorous voice echoing through the air. She quickly spotted him, up on his mound, the telltale booming sound coming from the inflated air pockets at the sides of his throat.

Prairie chickens were well-blended to the environment, a mottled combination of black, white and brown, but the distinctive orange color of the air pockets, along with the matching orange eye combs and long feathers, raised so they framed his head like a crown, made for an impressive display. Adding to that, his short tail feathers were pointing straight up and fanned like a peacock, and he was enthusiastically stomping his feet, sending small plumes of dust in the air. Her eyes and ears caught other males performing in a similar fashion around the area.

She scanned for signs of the female that he was insisting pay attention to him. She would be nearby, watching him closely, deciding if this eager paramour pleased her or not.

“There she is,” Katniss whispered, as the hen emerged from her hiding spot in a clump of sagebrush. The whooping and cooing, stomping and head bobbing intensified. Katniss couldn’t help giggle as she watched the courtship dance.

As the morning progressed, the prairie chicken call was replaced by the lovely, melodic song of a male lark bunting, also attempting to seduce a potential mate. She spotted the sparrow-like singer, perched atop a twig. He was hard to miss with the plumage the males acquired this time of year: glossy black, except for the distinctive white patches on his wings.

There would be another well-camouflaged female in the vicinity evaluating this determined suitor. Katniss considered how she was dressed just like these other females, inconspicuous and safe, hiding in the grasses and sagebrush, and she felt a kinship with them.

There was something heartening about watching these timeless harbingers of spring, after a long, barren winter. But without her own amorous male, she envied their romantic antics.

 _Only a few more days_.

She lay back down, her head resting on her coat pillow, and closed her eyes. She brought the sagebrush to her nose and, after taking in a deep whiff, she brushed it across her lips, pretending it was a kiss from Peeta. The sun’s warmth and the sounds of nature lulled her into a light slumber, so welcome after weeks of restless sleep.

By midday she was awoken by the sound of the train whistle far in the distance. She sighed and got to her feet, knowing she should get back to town. David had been waiting for a shipment of merchandise to come in by rail. If she hurried, she could be at the station in time to meet the train and see if it had arrived. At least she could be useful for something today.

She gave her hair and dress a quick brush to clear it of grass and slipped on her coat. Placing the sagebrush sprig into the pocket, she picked up her bow and quiver, and began her walk back to town.

Katniss passed the newspaper office just as Mrs. Undersee emerged with today’s paper.

“Been hunting?” she asked.

Confused for a moment, so lost in her daydreams, she looked blankly at the mayor’s wife. The woman nodded at her bow and quiver, and Katniss gave a self-deprecating roll of her eyes.

“Not successfully, I’m afraid. My family says I’m not being very helpful these days at the bakery, either.”

“We’ve all been missing your husband and his baking,” Mrs. Undersee replied with a smile.

Katniss apologized for the reduced inventory in Peeta’s absence.

The woman patted her arm and said she understood. “My husband is quite fond of Primrose’s sugar cookies, though. Her decorations are so clever! She does such a lovely job for her age.”

“She’s her father’s daughter,” Katniss said proudly.

“We haven’t seen you hunting much lately,” Mrs. Undersee commented.

The observation took Katniss by surprise, realizing it was true. An odd discomfort gripped her heart at the thought that she hadn’t even noticed it until it was pointed out to her.

It occurred to Katniss that the ache of longing she had felt today on the prairie wasn’t just about missing Peeta. Watching those birds, breathing in the scent of fresh sagebrush, and feeling the natural world beckoning to her soul brought to mind her mountain meadow. It had been years since she and Peeta had walked among its fragrant display.

 _But there would be no wildflowers this year_.

How long until she would see them again? She yearned to reconnect with the flowers that were so intimately tied to her identity. She wished Laughing Bird were still alive to teach her again how those blooms were a good omen. But most of all, she wanted Peeta to hold her and remind her of the promise that they wouldn’t stay away forever.

“It’s been busy since we opened the bakery, so I haven’t had much free time to get out and hunt, even more so with Peeta away.” Katniss explained. “But he’ll be back in a few days. It’ll be good to have him home,” Katniss said.

“Has there been any news about your eldest son and daughter? It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen either of them. Especially Juniper. I’d expect she’d be wanting to come home for a visit, what with her new husband and all.”

“Juniper and Gale will celebrate their first anniversary next month. And Sage is bringing his fianceé, Lavinia, home this summer when Hunter gets married.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Mrs. Undersee exclaimed. “Surely Juniper will come home to Colorado for that.”

“I hope so,” Katniss murmured, though she knew better than to get her hopes up.

The mayor’s wife bid her a good afternoon and crossed the street to the town hall, and Katniss was about to carry on when her eye caught sight of a notice tacked onto the message board beside the entrance to the newspaper office. Something about it caused her to stop, turn around and return to check it out. It looked quite official so she decided to read what it said.

Whatever wistfulness she had been feeling earlier was replaced by a resentful anger. Her anxious heart started to pulse with a hot fury. _Will it never end?_ she lamented, shaking her head in anguish. She ripped the notice from the wall. There was only one family to whom the message pertained in Centennial.

It was just another in a long line of the government’s humiliations targeting her people. To now encourage the breakup of families over the issue of race was deplorable. More than that, with Peeta gone, she felt vulnerable. Even though she scolded herself for her irrational fears, she knew she wouldn’t feel secure until he got home.

The whistle blew again announcing the train’s arrival. She stuffed the notice in her pocket along with the sagebrush, and, in a fog of disbelief and bitterness, she marched toward the station. Her feet lacked their characteristic grace as she directed them toward the train station agent’s office. She weaved her way around the crates and boxes that men unloaded onto the platform, dodging the people who were gathered to welcome home their loved ones.

Given her heavy mood, Katniss wasn’t up for any idle chit-chat, so she kept her head down and avoided eye contact. But the crowd pressed in around her so that she was knocked off balance when someone’s arm jostled her shoulder. She stumbled and fell to her knees, the quiver and bow case slipping from her grasp as she reached out to break her fall. She spun around with a scowl, and a man, grappling with a large box, gave her an apologetic grimace. She shook her head and murmured a quick response. With a grumble, Katniss turned back around to retrieve her bow and quiver that lay on the ground.

Her hand stopped when she saw the tip of her bow laying across the toe of a well-worn boot. The way the boot was laced caused her heart to skip a beat. Her eyes traveled up the trousered leg, noting how the fabric hugged the familiar, muscular thighs, prompting her pulse to race. But it was when she saw the outstretched hand, and how a gust of warm air ruffled a shaggy lock of blond hair up and away from his eyes, that the image became real. Beloved eyes that put the sky to shame, like the blue columbine, smiled down at her just like they had the first time she beheld them. Her throat started to constrict.

“Can I give you a hand?” Peeta said with a grin.

Reaching out to grasp a hold of the offered help, she launched herself into his arms with a cry.

“You’re home!”

His arms enveloped her, and then, unconcerned with the spectacle it caused, Peeta kissed her with abandon. They stood that way for a time, clinging to each other, while people milled around them.

“You left Lancaster early,” Katniss whispered when she finally found the wherewithal to speak.

He chuckled. “Actually, I left Pennsylvania two weeks ago.”

She pulled away, searching his face with concern.

“Let’s just say things didn’t go as well as I had hoped,” Peeta added. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I just want to enjoy looking at my wife again.” He ran a hand over her hair and leaned down for another kiss.

She tilted her head back, and small creases formed between Katniss’s eyes. “Then where have you been?”

“I decided to take a little detour,” he said cryptically.

When she frowned, Peeta gave her a broad grin and explained, “New Hampshire. I went and saw Juniper and Gale.”

Katniss’s jaw dropped. But uncertain where to begin, she stuttered, “How is… Did you… Were they…?” until finally Peeta laughed and, leaning his forehead down to rest against hers, he said, “I have so much to tell you.”

He closed his eyes, and Katniss took a moment to luxuriate in his embrace. “I’m so happy I decided to come check on David’s shipment today,” she whispered.

“I think they’re unloading it right now,” Peeta answered. “He can come down with the wagon and pick it up later. But let’s just get home first. I really want to see everyone.”

They arrived at the bakery as Primrose was returning from school. There were hugs and questions as the surprised family welcomed Peeta home. Despite everyone’s eagerness to learn all about his trip, and Peeta’s desire to fill them in, Katniss could see how, underneath his happiness to be back, Peeta was fatigued from the journey. She informed the family that there would be plenty of time to hear all about their father’s trip over dinner.

“I’d like to clean up a bit and change,” he said. “Then I can come down and give you a hand…”

David and Emma said not to worry, that they and Prim would look after things while he settled back in. When Katniss excused them both, saying she would help Peeta unpack, Emma winked and said to take their time, that she’d take care of preparing dinner.

Once upstairs in their room, Katniss slipped out of her coat and tossed it over one of the bedposts. After stealing another kiss, she took Peeta’s suitcase and opened it on the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry your visit with your family didn’t go well,” she said as Peeta began to remove his travel clothes to change into the fresh ones that she laid out for him. She couldn’t help spy on him as he unbuttoned his shirt.

He shrugged and evasively changed the subject. “I had a great stay in Seam, though. Whatever issues there may have been between Gale and me, seeing Juniper so happy… Well, we worked that out. It wasn’t the bridge I’d intended to make on this trip, but spending time with them both, I discovered an even better one.”

As much as she wanted to know more about Peeta’s time in Lampeter, Katniss decided it could wait until he was ready to discuss what happened. She grinned and walked over to him for another hug, longing to wrap herself around his solid torso before he put on the clean shirt.

“I even convinced them to come home for a visit this summer.”

Katniss leaned back, her eyes wide with excitement. “It’s perfect timing!” she announced. “Hunter told us last week that he and Silver Star are getting married the beginning of August. I’ve already sent word to Finnick and Annie about it. Sage sent a telegram that he’s coming home and bringing Lavinia, too, so we can meet her.”

“That is perfect. The whole family together,” Peeta sighed, the gentle pressure of his hand on the small of her back making her lean into him.

Katniss nuzzled her face against the bare skin of his chest, enjoying the way the fine curly hairs tickled her cheek. She'd missed the feel of his strong body in her arms so much that there was no way she would be the first to let go.

“Juniper sent you a gift,” Peeta said and extricated himself to go to the suitcase. From a carefully folded cloth he removed a framed photograph and handed it to her. It was Juniper and Gale from their wedding day, her daughter looking lovely in an elegant silk brocade gown and Gale handsome in the aristocratic way she remembered. They were standing in front of a white arbor with flowering vines trailing over the top. A pretty pond glistened in the background. Everything about the image spoke of contentment and peace. She nodded her head in approval and set the frame on their dresser.

When she turned back, she felt her gut twist. Peeta had reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the crumpled notice she’d stuffed there.

“What’s this?” he inquired with a frown.

“Something I saw posted on the bulletin board just before I got to the station.” She watched as he smoothed it out, her stomach in knots.

Peeta gave an exasperated huff. “This again,” he hissed, crumpled it back up, and, with disgust, tossed it into the corner.

When he looked up, she furrowed her brow. “You knew about this new legislation?”

The corners of his mouth turned down and there was bitterness in his voice. “A parting gift from my brother, Eli.”

“I’m so sorry, Peeta.”

“Why would you be sorry?” He gripped her by the shoulders, his face contorted in anguish. “This is terrible, encouraging such a thing. Another one to add to the government’s list. And made worse because people we know, my brother and our town, made certain we see it.”

He told her briefly about his stay in Lampeter and the irrevocable state of the relationship with his brothers, but managed to end on a note of optimism about the hope he had for the future of the younger generation.

“Then it wasn’t a complete waste, Peeta,” Katniss told him, smoothing his hair back from his eyes.

“I also have a gift for you,” he said solemnly. When Katniss quirked her eyebrows in curiosity, his serious expression vanished and the smile returned. “You didn’t think I would forget your fiftieth birthday, did you?”

He reached over to where his coat lay on the bed, slipped his hand into the pocket, and pulled out a small box. He took Katniss’s hand and, leading her over to the side of the bed, sat her down. His face took on the earnest quality she knew well. Sweet, with just a touch of shyness in his smile that never failed to flood her with warmth. He handed the box to her.

“I never gave you one when we married. I know it’s a few days until your birthday, but I think this is long overdue.”

Katniss untied the green silk ribbon and opened the box to find a ring inside. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the iridescent pearl at the center of the intricately detailed gold band.

Peeta sounded almost apologetic as he explained his choice. “I don’t know much about jewelry, Katniss, but it reminded me of the way you looked when we got married. The color of your deerskin dress, the pearly shells that Laughing Bird used as decorations, the silver and shell jewelry you wore…And the flowers…”

It was beautiful. As Katniss looked closer, she noticed the design on the gold band. Narrow, irregular-lobed leaves swept up from stems at the base, fanning out to encircle and cradle the pearl. On either side of the pearl centerpiece was a multi-petaled floret.

A memory of Portia’s garden, one early spring morning back in 1846, came to her mind.

“The flowers remind me of dandelions,” Katniss said, smiling.

Peeta looked at her in surprise. “That’s what I thought, too. It’s the other reason that I chose it. When I went back up to our meadow to stake that claim for you, the spring before you came back from St. Louis, they were the only flowers growing. When I saw the ring, I remembered. It just seemed a good choice.”

Two weeds that persisted regardless of their circumstances. She turned her face up to his, and nodded.

“Juniper helped me pick it out,” Peeta added. “She knows how much wildflowers mean to you.”

Katniss took the ring out of the box and held it between the fingers of her right hand so that she could see how the light played over the surface of the pearl.

“You’ve always had an eye for beauty, Peeta. Juniper got that from you.”

A flicker of some hidden thought caused the corner of Peeta’s mouth to curl up, but then his voice grew husky with emotion. “If my family hadn’t rejected me, if I hadn’t been forced to give up and turn back from Oregon, if I hadn’t lost Delly… If I hadn’t ended up at that cabin…”

It made Katniss think of the pearl and the process that had created it. “It’s hard to believe that out of so much pain, that something so beautiful could be created.” She reached out with her free hand to touch him. “It’s perfect, Peeta, after all that we’ve seen together. That we’ve overcome together.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Peeta got down onto his knees and reached to take the ring from her, intending to place it on her finger. But Katniss pulled it to her chest, away from his grasp. The fine lines that emanated from his eyes grew deeper as his expression turned to concern.

“Katniss?” he asked in a small voice, confused by her actions.

She tilted her head to the side in a bird-like fashion, as if puzzling over her prospective mate, a need for certainty in her head. She wasn’t sure where it came from. Perhaps from a place deeply buried inside her heart, ingrained from the many years of bigotry she had witnessed and endured. For some reason, she needed to know.

“I’ve caused you a lot of trouble,” she said, thinking of the grief with his family, the old trading post burned to the ground, the on-going prejudice he’d shared by being married to her. “You could get rid of me, you know,” she whispered, her eyes darting toward the notice left lying on the floor.

Peeta gasped and took the ring from her. She gazed at this man whom she had loved for so many years, saw the determined set of his jaw and yearning in his blue eyes. But it was the way his voice broke, even though he spoke with conviction, that tugged at her heart.

“Get rid of you? I could no more let you go than I could my own heart. When you were back in St. Louis, I would’ve crawled all the way on my knees to fetch you back. I still would.”

A smile that was rooted deep in her heart radiated from Katniss’s face as Peeta slid the ring onto the finger of her left hand. He brought his lips down to her fingers and kissed them. Then, his arms circling tightly around her hips, he lay his head in her lap, his cheek resting on her thigh.

Katniss combed the fingers of her left hand through the blond hair, raking her fingertips along his scalp in a way she knew he liked. She observed how, at fifty-seven, his soft waves matched her ring. Some pearly moon’s glow had crept in where there used to be only the sun’s golden rays.

She could feel him tremble as he released a deep breath. Curling her body atop of his, Katniss let her right hand drift down his back, traveling in slow, comforting circles. Then she drew her hand back up over the broad shoulder, until it brushed across the rough stubble of his upturned cheek. His warm breath, slow and steady against the skin of her fingers as she caressed his face, caused her body to flush with heat.

“Don’t ever let me go,” she pleaded with a whisper.

His arms tightened their hold around her in response. She closed her eyes, and they sat quietly that way for some time, reluctant to be separated from each other’s touch.

 

**QUOTE NOTE: I mentioned back in the End Notes for Ch.15 how much I loved the way Michener's characters expressed their devotion to each other. While the wording is slightly modified, I've stayed close to the lovely original version. Katniss made her declaration of love in Ch.15 when she said she'd walk through the fires of hell for Peeta. In this chapter you have Peeta's response letting Katniss know he'd cross the country on his knees to fetch her back.**

**NOTE: You may have noticed that I’ve made reference in WF to blue columbines. I thought it was an appropriate choice to use Colorado's state flower to remind Katniss of Peeta's blue eyes.**

**In the spirit of using state symbols, this chapter also includes a description of the lark bunting. It is the state bird for Colorado. I found it a nice coincidence that they are known for their distinctive and varied singing voice, and that the male’s plumage during breeding season resembles the mockingjay.**

**The prairie chicken, with the reference to the color orange and the great visual of the male’s mating dance, was too good an image to pass up!**

**Next up: the concluding chapter of WF. Thank you to everyone who has followed this story. I love to read your comments. :-)**


	19. Love In Its Perpetual Significance, Pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the family reunites for the wedding, Katniss reflects on the meaning of the wildflowers and the significance of the love that has shaped her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting the final chapter is bittersweet for me. WF has been so rewarding, and a BIG reason is because of the wonderful people who’ve assisted at each step. With heart-felt Thanks:
> 
> To two amazing artists who each created a visual representation for my story: otrascosasseries and loving-mellark. I love your unique interpretations so very much! You generated more interest for WF because of your beautiful banners.
> 
> Grateful hugs to bethylark, my go-to expert on Native American culture. I started this story admitting my lack of knowledge, and you generously stepped forward to offer your assistance. I’ve learned a lot from your involvement. When I approached you with my ideas for a wedding and dance in this final chapter, you were so encouraging. I have been creative with the traditions, so any inaccuracies are my own invention!
> 
> To my Betas, for providing their friendship, cheerleading, and for being so talented and creative:
> 
> finduilasnumenesse: You were there from the beginning, my first partner in fan fiction writing. When I first mused about the idea of turning Centennial into an Everlark story, you purchased and read the novel - no mean feat given how big of a story it is! You've shared your ideas and patiently encouraged me every step of the way. 
> 
> titaniasfics: What would I do without your faithful support and generosity? Whenever I sent you a draft and you wrote back how it moved you, my heart literally soared! There’s no better encouragement than the praise of a gifted writer who takes the time to love up your work.
> 
> papofglencoe: WF would not be the same without your personal touch. Your keen eye and thoughtful observations gave this story the finishing polish I couldn’t achieve on my own. Every kind, smart, and humorous comment gave me energy and brought extra life to WF.
> 
> To everyone who has read WF and let me know you enjoyed it with kudos or comments, many of you posting comments all the way through the story: You kept me inspired and provided so much motivation when it was needed. I am humbled by your kind words and shared thoughts. It was so reassuring when those of you who were familiar with Michener’s story (novel and/or mini-series) let me know that you approved of my adaptation. And what a compliment to learn that WF even inspired some of you to go and read/watch Centennial!
> 
> Finally, to the two authors who provided so much inspiration: Suzanne Collins for providing amazing characters and James Michener for providing the framework in which they could live.
> 
> Thank you and much love! <3!
> 
> And now... The conclusion to Wildflower.

**Chapter 19 - Love In Its Perpetual Significance, Pt. 2**

**Summer, 1877**

The last week of July, the Mellark family watched in anticipation as the train pulled into Centennial’s station. Sage had his arm around his fianceé Lavinia’s shoulder. David and Emma stood next to them with nine-month-old Daisy in Emma’s arms. Prim clutched a bouquet of flowers from their garden in her hands.

“There they are!” Hunter announced as their eagerly awaited guests emerged from the First Class train car.

Katniss recognized Gale the moment he exited the train. Grayer certainly, but still the familiar form and refined manner, dressed conservatively, but looking every bit the successful entrepreneur. He held out his hand, and that’s when she saw her daughter for the first time in seven years. As she stepped down from the train onto the platform, Juniper was the image of elegance even in her understated traveling clothes.

Her blue eyes scanned the faces in the crowd, wary and alert. Gale leaned in to whisper something in her ear, which made her nod her head and give his hand a squeeze.

But it wasn’t the style or color of her dress, or even Juniper’s nervous demeanor, that caused Katniss to grip Peeta’s hand. It was the way the fabric of her dress draped around her uncorseted midsection, revealing her pregnancy. No longer able to hold herself back, she called out her daughter’s name. Juniper looked up with eyes wide and mouth twitching down as if she might cry.

“Mama?” she called out. Both women dropped their husbands’ hands, and Katniss leapt forward and pulled her daughter into her arms. Juniper, taller and rounder, trembled as Katniss’s arms circled her and tears threatened to fall.

“I’m so sorry…” she began, but Katniss hushed her with a hand to her daughter’s lips.

Shaking her head, she brought her face close and said, “No you don’t. Don’t you apologize.”

Juniper gave another furtive glance about when a few people murmured, realizing her identity. Katniss saw her jaw tighten. Perhaps she was concerned that gossip of her struggles had somehow made its way back to Centennial. Or maybe it was simply the old insecurities from the way things had been when she left town.

Katniss gave her a big smile, filled with all the strength she could transmit to her daughter, to give her courage.

 _You hold your head up high_ , she silently ordered with conviction in her eyes.

Her hand fell to Juniper’s belly. “How far along are you?”

“Not quite five months,” Juniper answered with a smile.

Katniss released her so that Peeta could lean in to give his daughter a kiss on the cheek.

“You were expecting when I was in Seam,” Peeta said. “You never mentioned it.”

Juniper looked apologetic. “I wasn’t completely certain. I think after… I was scared to hope…”

Her voice drifted off, and Peeta cradled her face in his hands. “It’s okay. No need to explain.”

Peeta extended his hand toward Gale to shake, welcoming him with a warm smile.

Katniss was struck by a curious sense of irony observing the two of them. It was remarkable the way life had unfolded. No longer rivals, but allies, a bond had formed between the two men because of their mutual love for one person. It occurred to her that, in her way, Juniper was more like her father than many might realize, in how she, too, helped bring people together.

The rest of the family crowded around, sharing their delight that soon there would be another child added to the family. Sage exchanged a prolonged hug with his sister. She couldn’t hear what they whispered to each other, but Katniss could see that emotions ran high in both their faces, no doubt due to the circumstances of their last meeting.

Sage put his arm around his fianceé. “I’d like you to meet Lavinia,” he said to his sister.

Gale moved to Juniper’s side, and she reached to take hold of his arm, introducing him to her future sister-in-law.

Next, Juniper turned to greet David and Emma, whom Juniper said she remembered from school.

“This is Daisy,” Emma said proudly, and Juniper took her niece’s little hand and gave it a little shake, the baby rewarding her with a smile.

Prim handed the flowers to her big sister and received a kiss in return. “They’re beautiful, Prim. Thank you,” Juniper whispered.

Hunter shook hands with Gale and said how happy he was they could make it to the wedding. Juniper gave her youngest brother a hug and whispered her congratulations. Meanwhile, Katniss turned to Gale, and the two of them regarded each other.

After an awkward moment, the corner of Gale’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “So are you going to force me call to you ‘Mrs. Mellark,’ now that you’re my mother-in-law?”

Katniss rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she laughed. “We’re old friends, you and I. No need for that.” She reached to give him a hug.

“Funny how things work out, isn’t it?” Gale said.

“Thank you,” she whispered when she released him from the hug. “For what you did for Juniper.”

“I owe her a lot, too,” he replied.

Katniss nodded. “I know.”

“That leaves only the Odairs,” Sage announced. “They’re arriving in a couple of days, just in time for us to head north to Grey Cloud’s camp.”

Juniper’s face lit up. “Is Maggie coming, too? It’s been too long since I spoke with her.”

“She’s nearly ready to have her first baby, so she and her husband decided it best to stay home,” Sage explained. “They were married almost two years ago. Thomas sends his regrets, too, that he can’t get away from his duties in Washington.”

Juniper grew pensive. “I’ve let so much time go by. I’d hoped to make up for that.”

“You’ll have to come to St. Louis for our wedding in September to see them all,” Sage replied with a grin at Lavinia.

“So Thomas has still avoided capture?” Juniper joked. It warmed Katniss to see her relax enough to ignore the attention they were receiving from some of the people still lingering on the platform.

“He’s biding his time, keeping busy now that he’s considering running for Congress,” Sage explained.

“Well, he’s the eldest of all of us cousins, so it’s about time he settled down before it’s too late,” David snorted with a twinkle in his soft, brown eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gale interjected. “Waiting didn’t hurt me.” He leaned over to give Juniper a kiss on the cheek.

“We’ve brought quite a bit of luggage,” Juniper declared. “Gifts, dress fabrics for the girls… I didn’t know your favorite colors,” she laughed, “so I brought several bolts.”

“And lace and ribbons and all manner of other things I have no idea about,” Gale added with a chuckle.

Juniper turned to Hunter. “We also have some things for your new home: curtains, linens. I hope your bride likes the choices.”

He assured her that their gifts would be appreciated.

“I brought the wagon down,” David replied, pointing over his shoulder. “I figured that since you are now a lady of means, you wouldn’t travel light,” he teased his sister.

“When do we leave for the wedding?” Gale asked as they loaded their luggage onto the wagon.

“Right after church on Sunday,” Peeta answered. “We’ll go as far as Hunter’s new house in the northwestern corner of the ranch, and then the rest of the way on Monday.”

Katniss could see Juniper’s face grow tense. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. Hunter’s wedding is one thing…” her daughter murmured.

“But I’m singing a solo in the choir,” Prim announced to her big sister, disappointment on her face. “Uncle Finnick and Auntie Annie will be there, too.”

Katniss laid her hand on Juniper’s arm. Leaning close she whispered, “I know it’s uncomfortable facing the people in this town.”

Peeta slipped an arm around Juniper’s shoulders and gave it a squeeze. “Mellarks always stand together. We lead by example, but we also support each other. So if you don’t feel up to it…”

She glanced up at her father. “Yes, I remember, Papa.”

Juniper took a breath, turned to Prim and smiled. “I wouldn’t miss your song for anything.”

But Katniss could sense Juniper’s underlying anxiety in how quiet she became as they made their way home, in the way she clung to Gale’s arm. This wasn’t going to be an easy week for her. First, interacting with Centennial’s citizens, some of whom were the young women who had made Juniper’s life so difficult with their condescension. And then, immersion into the other half of her heritage with Hunter and Star’s wedding. Their family had paid the price for standing up for justice, for their blended culture, but she needed Juniper to find a way to be okay with it. Otherwise how would she live with it, knowing how much it had hurt her daughter?

Katniss’s worries were alleviated, however, by the time Juniper appeared in the church on Sunday morning. Whatever tension her daughter felt inside, she was the epitome of style and poise, leaving the town’s critics in a state of stunned awe. It was immensely satisfying to Katniss to witness her daughter’s triumph.

Her thoughts turned to the wedding. She knew it must be on her daughter’s mind.

 _It starts with me_ , Katniss realized, thinking of Peeta’s affirmation to Juniper at the train station. Mrs. Undersee’s observation had been a reminder that she’d allowed one half of her heritage, exemplified in her proficiency at hunting with a bow, to become neglected. Some of it had been due to the busyness of her life. But how much had been her subconscious urge to blend in with Centennial’s society? Yes, she would lead by example, and make time to honor her whole identity from now on. Not just for Juniper’s sake, but for herself.

As Katniss’s eyes scanned all the members of her family, the depth of affection and devotion that existed between them was evident to anyone who saw them, and she was filled with a renewed strength of her own.

Once their tents and other camping gear were stowed, the wagons were filled with gifts and food including cured meats, fresh vegetables, flour, sugar and dried beans. Items from the bakery that could travel well, such as breads, pies and fancifully-decorated cookies, were carefully packed. Much of it would form part of the wedding meal. The rest would be given to Chief Grey Cloud as a gift for the benefit of the tribe.

The family arrived at Hunter’s house early that evening. Hunter had detoured on the way to stop in at the Crown K Ranch headquarters to pick up the ranch owner’s gift to him and Star to share at their wedding: fifty pounds of their own beef, dried into jerky. Katniss knew how much this would be appreciated by Grey Cloud and his people. But the meat wasn’t the only thing Hunter brought back with him. He arrived just after sunset leading six handsome ponies. This was the centerpiece of his bride gift.

“They must be paying you well!” Sage joked as he admired the ponies. “Maybe I should have become a ranch hand instead of a lawyer.”

That caused chortles to erupt from the crowd and Hunter replied, “They gave me a promotion. I’m second only to Dalton now. Assistant Foreman. It’s why they let me have this plot of land for my own home.” He grinned at Peeta. “But Papa helped buy the horses.”

“Is that so?” Finnick replied, turning to Peeta.

He gave a half-smile and declared, “I was informed back in Pennsylvania that I owed $1350 to my family for horses. I thought this was a good place to start.” When Finnick gave him a quizzical look, Peeta added, “I’ll tell you about it some time.”

They stayed up late, a large group crowded into the small home. Hunter was animated as he described Silver Star, eager for the remaining family members to meet his future bride. The reunion was boisterous, infusing Katniss with a contentment she hadn’t experienced in ages.

“So you built this place with your own two hands? I had no idea you had it in you,” Sage teased his little brother. “I’m just finishing up on the one for my bride, too, though I can’t say I’ve done a bit of it myself. Lavinia’s probably relieved about that,” he chuckled, and his fianceé gave him a kiss.

Hunter shrugged. “I’m sure mine’s nowhere near as fancy, but I do know one thing.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Sage asked.

“You won’t have the view,” he boasted with a grin. “There’s nothing like a prairie sky, whether it’s a summer storm, a sunset, or the stars on a clear night.”

“That’s for sure!” Sage agreed.

“It’s one of the things Sage has been talking about,” Lavinia said. “I couldn’t wait to see it all. Well, maybe not the summer storm, at least until we’re no longer sleeping in tents,” she added biting her lip. “But I am looking forward to learning more about Sage’s heritage. I hope to write about the experience when we get home for my father’s newspaper.”

David spoke up next with a smirk. “I hope you city folks haven’t grown so soft that sleeping in tents and tipis is too much for you.”

“Oh, I think we’ll manage just fine,” Finnick declared. “Old soldiers like us have logged more nights sleeping under the stars on the hard ground than you have, young man. Isn’t that true, Gale?” he added, puffing out his chest, causing his nephew to snort and Gale to chuckle.

Katniss glanced at Juniper. She seemed quiet. “How about you? It’s been a long time since you spent time away from the city, roughing it. And with the pregnancy…”

“Oh, stop worrying,” Annie chortled. “Everdeen girls are strong, remember?”

When she saw the way Juniper smiled, Katniss was filled with pride. But when she saw the gleam in Peeta’s eyes, she remembered the sensuous nights they had spent together far from civilization, and she gazed back at him knowingly.

It was the children who were the first to greet them when they arrived at Grey Cloud’s camp in southeastern Wyoming. They ran alongside their horses, smiling and curious about the visitors and what they had brought in their wagons. Seeing their excitement brought a lump to Katniss's throat. Many of them, like Prim, had grown up after the massacre. Though their lives were not easy, there was such hopeful innocence in their grins and laughter.

Grey Cloud welcomed them to the picturesque location in the foothills. This was not a permanent village for his tribe, as they were a people without a home of their own. Conflict and uncertainty still plagued his people, but the chief remained a man of great graciousness as he invited them into his camp, treating them as family.

They went to work, unloading the wagons and setting up their tents. Katniss selected a spot on the outer edge of the camp, adjacent to a small bluff of trees that lined the banks of a stream. While the men took care of their accommodations, the women joined together organizing the food for that evening.

Once their preparations were completed, the camp turned its attention to erecting the tipi for Silver Star and Hunter in the tradition of her people. Though the couple would relocate to Colorado, Star would retain exclusive ownership of the tipi and all the gifts specially designated for her home.

Katniss was reminded of Peeta’s wedding gift to her: the claim in the mountains. They had shared everything, all their possessions, the land in Centennial, the store, and later the bakery, and yet, he’d intuitively grasped the concept even back then. He and Haymitch had ruminated over the dilemma of property ownership when Haymitch had filed their claims to traditional Arapaho land. That spot had been meaningful to both her and Peeta, but he knew how significant it was for it to belong only to her. That he enjoyed it with her because of her generosity and not his benevolence.

Katniss and Peeta returned to their tent to change into their own wedding attire from over thirty years ago. Following in her mother’s path, Katniss had made moccasins for everyone in her family, beaded and decorated in designs that best represented each of them.

The wedding was a harmonious blend of traditions. The exchange of gifts between the families began with Hunter presenting the six ponies to Star and her surviving kin. Hunter was given a bow and quiver of arrows in return, handmade by craftsmen in Star’s tribe, which he showed proudly to his mother. The bow was especially beautiful in workmanship, not only practical, since Hunter was proficient with its use, but also symbolic as he became the provider for his new family.

Elders gave the couple words of wisdom to guide them in their marriage. Chief Grey Cloud and Peeta each gave prayers for the couple according to their faiths. Next, Hunter and Star were given a clay wedding vase with two spouts. They both drank the water inside, solemnizing the sharing of their lives. As the final declaration of the couple’s union, the chief wrapped them both in a single blanket. Toasts were made, and joyful whoops and cheers of congratulations were given.

The feast they shared was a sweet moment for Katniss and Annie. They didn’t need to say a word to know that they both recalled their feeble attempts to help the tribe in the dark days leading up to the massacre. The starvation and suffering were nowhere to be found today.

But it was after the feast, when fires were lit to illuminate the festivities, and everyone gathered in the center of the camp around the drummers, that Katniss felt her spirit take flight. Several men sat around a large drum with the rest of the camp surrounding them, and the air became charged with the energy of celebration.

The beating of the drums and the stirring sounds of the chants and songs brought people to their feet, the men on one side, the women on the other. Dancing transformed them as the drums and singing infused them with its exaltation. Silver Star was especially lovely in her intricately adorned dress, so graceful as she lead the women with her light step and twirling, the long fringes and dangling ornaments swaying in fluid motion. Prim and Emma leapt to their feet to join the women. Emma whirled around with her daughter in her arms until Daisy began to fuss, so she was placed on the ground to crawl about. Eventually, Prim took her little niece’s hands, helping her stand so they could perform their own simple dance, along with the other younger children. Their giggles tickled Katniss’s heart.

Meanwhile, Katniss’s sons were on their feet to join the men in a lively dance of their own. It only took a few moments and Sage and David ran over and grabbed their father’s hands and dragged him up to join them and Hunter, to everyone’s delight.

“Finnick wouldn’t want to miss this. He should be up there, too!” Katniss exclaimed when she turned to Annie who was seated on her left. “Where is he anyway?”

Annie nudged her and pointed far to her right. He was sitting on the ground beside Chief Grey Cloud, and they weren’t alone. He’d brought Gale over to meet with the elderly man. It was then that she noticed Juniper, sitting on her right, was watching her husband with an almost somber intensity. She slipped her arm around her daughter as they saw the chief take Gale’s head in his wrinkled hands and bring the younger man’s face close to his, saying something to him.

Annie leaned over and whispered to the two women, “Finnick knows how hard it’s been for Gale, that he still carries guilt over what happened at Rattlesnake Buttes. He wanted Grey Cloud to have the chance to speak privately with him, to reassure him.”

Katniss reflected on the remarkable chief. He was a man who had stood toe-to-toe with presidents, and yet, he was a leader who’d been driven from his ancestral home and treated like a barely tolerated guest on land that his people had occupied for generations when the treaty he’d negotiated in good faith was ignored. If men with his integrity governed in Washington, the country would be a different place, she thought ruefully. The fact that he could be so gracious to a soldier who had been present at the massacre, to give Gale some comfort, was another testament to the magnitude of the man.

But her moment of introspection was interrupted when Annie rose to her feet.

“Well, I think it’s time to join this party!” she cajoled. “Come on, Katniss, it’s just like when we were back in St. Louis, only with different dance steps!”

Katniss was about to get to her feet, when Juniper grabbed her arm. “Don’t leave me alone, Mama,” she whispered. Katniss sighed for her daughter’s inner conflict and reticence, how she still struggled with this side of her identity.

“Why don’t you join us?” she coaxed. “This is your heritage, too.”

Her daughter ran a hand over her belly, wavering. “I’m not sure if I’m up to it,” she replied, though Katniss suspected it was an excuse.

“Alright,” she answered, sitting back down and patting Juniper’s knee. “Maybe a little later.”

She turned her attention to the dancers, and grinned. The women looked almost sprite-like in their feminine exuberance. When she glanced back over to where Grey Cloud was sitting, she saw Finnick standing with Peeta at his side, both laughing as they dragged Gale to his feet to join the men. There was a light-hearted exchange of dance steps between the two cultures, set to the rhythm of the drums.

She nudged Juniper, who was lost in thought, her eyes downcast. Katniss pointed, and the corner of Juniper’s mouth quirked up at the sight. Then she gave a gasp.

“What is it?” Katniss asked.

Without saying a word, Juniper placed her mother’s hand on her belly, to feel the little fluttering kick.

Katniss drew her daughter close and, looking intently in her eyes, whispered, “You see, my sweet girl? Even your baby wants to dance. How about it, and we join the others?”

Juniper sighed and gave a nod. Katniss pulled her to her feet, and the two slipped into the circle of women and were soon blended into the celebration. Juniper became surrounded by the other young, married women, and Katniss closed her eyes, allowing the moment to take a hold of her.

She was brought out of her almost dreamlike state when she felt an arm slip around her shoulders. She opened her eyes to see her sister’s face close to hers, her eyes reflecting delight.

Annie tipped her head toward the opposite side of the clearing and giggled, “Just look at them, Katniss! Have you ever seen anything so magnificent!”

Katniss turned her attention to the men, their dance quite different from the women’s. It was full of enthusiasm, an expression of masculine beauty.

“We certainly never saw moves like that in St. Louis,” Annie joked. No, this wasn’t the formal ballroom dances of back east. “Poor Finnick, his hip doesn’t make it easy,” she added with an empathetic pout, referring to her husband's old war injury.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Katniss mused as she regarded her brother-in-law. “He always had the grace of a cat, and he’s still such a flirt. Nobody else could make a hobble look so endearing,” she chuckled.

Annie gave a broad grin. “Oh yes, you’re right about that!” She turned back to watch the men as she and Katniss swayed in time with the drum beats. “Looks like even Gale is getting the hang of it.”

Katniss remembered the dances she and Gale had shared at Fort John and in St. Louis, but this was quite different. She observed how the restrained form gave way and a new fluidity began to seep into his moves. The same way he used to move when they hunted together. A brief image popped into her mind of that day when she had observed him riding home to Fort John, with his dark hair and swarthy complexion, and she’d realized how he resembled the Natives he was sent out to defend against. If he was wearing buckskin, just like she’d concluded on that day thirty-four years ago, the similarity would be undeniable.

For a moment she wanted to seek out Juniper to share her revelation, but her attention was drawn elsewhere. Sage, David and Hunter moved as if the dance was in their blood, effortless and instinctive. They radiated happiness. But it was watching their father as he danced with his sons that took Katniss’s breath away.

Annie leaned close and waggled her eyebrows. “I don’t know about you, but I’m impressed. It does something to me watching our men strutting about like this.” She gave a slightly lascivious hip check to her sister and Katniss responded with an impish grin.

“Oh, and Katniss…” Annie added with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Yes?” Katniss murmured, feeling a little light-headed.

“I suggested that since Prim’s doing such a great job babysitting Daisy, Emma should let her stay with them tonight.”

A rush of hot blood flushed Katniss’s face.

“You can thank me in the morning,” Annie laughed as she spun away becoming lost among the other dancers, leaving Katniss beside the drummers, close to where she could observe the men. She danced with tiny steps in one small spot, her eyes fixed on Peeta.

Every detail imprinted itself in her mind: the wide stance, the bent knee, the rhythmic undulations of his hips, the way the dust billowed every time his moccasined foot stomped on the ground in time with the beat. His head was down, and his expression spirited. She couldn’t stop staring at how his strong arms flexed as he moved slowly around the perimeter of the circle. Or how the fringes that hung from the shoulders of his elk skin shirt danced about his stalwart body with each vigorous footfall.

It wasn’t just her sons who danced from instinct. For a man who had grown up without dance or native drums, Peeta seemed to transcend culture, at harmony with the ancient rhythms that first inspired her people long ago. The raw sensuality of it made her heart race. It was a celebration of virility that excited her, drawing her out from the rest of the women, attracted to the lusty invitation of the dance.

“Oh yes, Annie,” Katniss whispered to herself, imagining herself adorned in feathers, just like that hen out on the prairie, wanting him. “It’s definitely doing something to me.”

Peeta’s eyes caught her stare when his head turned toward her, as if she were emanating a magnetism of her own. He was breathing hard from the lively dance, but his mouth curved up into a cocky grin, making Katniss giggle in reply. When she saw how his grin morphed into something more intense, she met it with one of her own, ravenous and daring.

She turned on her heel and slipped out of the ring of women dancers, past the drummers, running on silent hunter’s feet through the village. She weaved around tipis, brilliant moonlight and the warm glow of scattered campfires illuminating her path. Even in moccasins, the cadence of his feet tracking her reverberated in her chest. It made her heart hammer like a rabbit, except not in fear but in exquisite anticipation of being caught.

She stumbled over a tent peg, laughed, and scrambled back to her feet. Guided by the trickling sound of the stream, she reached the edge of the camp, silently complimenting herself on picking such a private location for their tent. Breathless, not from the run, but from the thrill of the chase, she leaned her hand against a sturdy sapling in the bluff along the stream’s bank. And waited. She knew it wouldn’t be long.

Still, she let out a small cry of surprise when an arm swept around her waist from behind. Peeta reached up to sweep her braid over her shoulder, and his warm breath, panting to match hers, tickled her ear as his hungry lips attacked her neck. Provocatively, she bucked her backside against him, and he tightened his grip around her belly. She could feel him slide down as he flexed his knees, bringing the unmistakable hardness of his erection in line with her rounded bottom. They began to gyrate, driven by the tempo of the drum, electrified at every point of contact.

A groan escaped from Peeta’s throat, low and guttural, and when his lips lifted from her neck, she curled her arm around his head, pulling it close. She tilted her face to run her lips along the bottom of his jaw, and then her tongue darted out, eager to follow the same path. The sound he gave was somewhere between a growl and purr that resonated straight from her ear, down through her body, to settle in her core, igniting a desire that demanded relief.

“Peeta…” she gasped in frustration when he pulled away from her. But he gripped her hips and turned her toward their tent, and she understood his purpose. Katniss dropped to a crouch at the entranceway and slipped past the flap. She reached down to slip off her moccasins, just as Peeta ducked inside, kicked off his moccasins by the entrance, and quickly secured the flap behind him. He gave her a small nudge, and they crawled farther inside on their knees until they reached the mattress of plush buffalo robes. Before she could turn to face him, she felt hands sliding down her hips and over her thighs.

Peeta grabbed the bottom of her dress and, with swift efficiency, pulled it up and over her head, leaving her naked and quivering, yearning for physical contact. In the dim light, she heard him make quick work of discarding his own clothing, and then the strong arms, corded with hard muscles and covered in a fine dusting of blond hair, circled back around her body. As he nuzzled the back of her neck, she thrilled at the possessive hold he had on her.

Katniss moaned when she felt teeth gently nipping her shoulder as one hand cupped and kneaded her breast, the other reaching down in front to do its magic, his fingers running through her folds before settling on the apex of her pleasure. She grew euphoric, the world seeming to spin, and she fell forward onto all fours with Peeta’s body hovering over hers. She began to undulate against his hand, and his hips rolled against her back side in tandem until she was vibrating from the ecstasy that radiated like waves from her core.

Peeta held her to his chest while they both caught their breath and, though the summer night air was warm and his body hot against hers, a tingling shiver ran through Katniss from the fine sheen of dampness on their skin. The sensation was multiplied when Peeta sat back and placed his hand at the back of her neck, ghosting over the skin on the nape and then trailing his fingers slowly down each vertebrae. Every part of her body ached for respite from the desire ignited by the tantalizing, light-as-feather touch. She bit her lip, a single note of want escaping her lungs. When his hand reached the base of her spine, he caressed the smooth curve of her bottom. She could hear his breath grow more ragged, and her pulse increased as she awaited his next move.

Placing the palm of one hand flat at the top of her back and gripping her hip with his other hand, Peeta moved close and brought his lips to the sensitive skin at the side of her neck. His tongue ran along the shell of her ear, and a tremor rolled through her body, making her gasp and buck her hips back against his hardness. No further invitation needed, the hand on her back pushed her down and he reached between them and guided himself to her entrance. They groaned in unison as he thrust inside her.

They moved with the rhythm of the drums reverberating through the air. With every breath and heartbeat, Katniss sensed a synchronization with the pulse of the earth and every living thing surrounding them.

It was primitive and sublime simultaneously, all an expression of the bonds that existed between them and nature, between them and the divine. It encompassed the joys and sorrows of the generations stretching back into the past, and the new ones waiting on the horizon that would live on long after they were gone. But in that moment, most of all, it was through the power of sexual intimacy she shared with Peeta that Katniss felt her own unique significance within the majesty of creation.

As the tempo of their union increased, Katniss had a vision of Peeta’s fair skin stroking her dusky surfaces, rooting inside the way it had the first time up in the mountains. The way they had created new life between them, with their children and the fusion of their two worlds. As they climaxed, it was an amelioration of two separate beings, forming something new. Stronger than what they were on their own, because, unified, they honored the best in each other.

They collapsed to the mattress gasping for breath, and, when they rolled over to embrace each other, they began to laugh at their brazenness. Katniss nuzzled her nose up under Peeta’s chin, and he smoothed his hand across her back with tender strokes as they basked in the afterglow.

“Maybe we should get back to the party,” Katniss murmured against his skin as Peeta smoothed the damp hair away from her face.

“I think they can manage just fine on their own,” he answered, kissing her forehead.

Katniss lifted her head from his neck to give him a soft, lingering kiss on the mouth.

“So you liked my dancing,” Peeta boasted with a broad grin.

She gave him a wry smile and ran her fingers through his hair, sweeping it back from his forehead. She took a moment to admire the fair waves and the eyelashes that never ceased to amaze her. “Mhmm, maybe I like your feathers, too.”

He scrunched up his face for a moment and then nodded as her meaning dawned on him. “Mmm, I see.” Peeta’s voice was low and sonorous, the sound resonating through his chest into her body.

He hugged her close as Katniss ran her fingers lazily across his chest, her body satiated.

“I love my little prairie hen,” he whispered.

Katniss raised herself up on her elbow and gave a coquettish smirk. “And I love my impressive prairie cock,” making them both burst out in mirthful snorts and laughter.

She settled her head back down in the crook of his neck, Peeta’s cheek resting against her forehead. They lay quietly in the dim light, the faint flicker from a small campfire somewhere outside their tent playing over the canvas walls. When the night air began to cool, she shivered and snuggled closer, so Peeta drew a blanket up over them both.

As Katniss listened to the joyful sounds of the wedding celebration echoing through the camp, she recalled her day on the prairie back in May. How she’d felt the pull of nature and her longing to see her meadow carpeted in wildflowers again.

Peeta claimed their time in the mountains had changed him.

All her life Katniss had identified with those flowers, but her relationship with them had been much slower to evolve. She thought about how, when she was a young woman, she’d been resistant to accept her mother’s teachings, instead seeing the wildflowers as a lovely, fragile thing that didn’t last.

It all made better sense now. She marveled at the meaning of their glorious, but brief, appearance, only to return years later, out of the blue, and yet, when seen through the lens of eons, as predictable as the rhythm of those drums, as dependable as the beating heart that lay beneath her hand.

Peeta had understood it all much sooner. When they had returned to the meadow after the devastation of the massacre, he’d explained how loss was always followed by renewal, just like the wildflowers. Because of Peeta, those blooms had become her symbol of hope through the hard times.

But until now, she’d overlooked the intervening years when the wildflowers remained dormant. Instead, she’d watched with longing for their return. And it made her realize another simple truth.

As awe-inspiring as the wildflowers were as heralds of mercy and rebirth, their lives had been shaped by more than those grand moments of colorful profusion. The essence of who they were was found in the simple things: the courting dance of the prairie chickens, the love song of the lark bunting, and the mournful call of the coyote. It lived in the beauty of a prairie sunset. It was nurtured by the plentiful prairie turnip and the sagebrush.

It thrived in the small gestures: Peeta offering to share a meal with a potential enemy, Delly’s sweet smile that first day they met, changing the course of their lives, Portia’s warm hands when she’d welcomed her and Laughing Bird into her home. It could be seen as Haymitch rocked his grandson, in his rough devotion to a family that didn’t share his blood but who adored him for the father and grandfather that he had been to them. It was displayed in Laughing Bird’s skilled hands as she crafted the beautiful bead and quill work of her heritage. It was evident in the love and loyalty she’d shared with her brothers and sister. It was demonstrated in a chief’s forgiveness after so much injustice…

With her thumb, she spun the pearl ring around her finger until the gold band was visible.

And it was in the dandelions. Stubborn, brave, and even a little defiant, persisting where others didn’t. As beautiful in their efflorescence as the wildflowers, because they were the ones that stayed, faithful and untamed. Their many yellow petals synonymous with every kind act and expression of life. Every fluffy seed carrying a new promise on the wind.

At the radius of that flower, Katniss saw her life lived in the loving arms of a man who gave her hope in the darkest moments. She witnessed her children celebrating their blended heritage with joy and pride, the solidarity in their defense of each other, and how they stood together in love.

Because, in their own way, they were all wildflowers. Not just in those special years, but in all the moments in-between.

“I want to go back to our meadow,” Katniss said. “We could detour on our way home.” Ideas began to take form in her mind. Maybe they could rebuild the cabin, get the children involved, too, encourage them to set aside time to spend up there enjoying its pristine beauty.

“There won’t be any wildflowers,” Peeta replied gently.

She pulled away from his embrace just enough to hover over him, so her eyes could meet his.

“That’s okay, I don’t need to see them,” Katniss answered, gazing with love down at her husband. “I’m happy with just the dandelions… And you.”

Peeta took her face in his hands, and, when he kissed her, all her thoughts coalesced into the touch of those lips and the warmth of his body wrapped around hers.

The world and its endless rhythms would spin on, with them only a small part of it, but Katniss smiled because she was so relaxed and content in that moment that the rest of the world seemed immaterial compared to what existed inside this small space. Here, in her arms, was everything most significant. It was all she needed.

“Stay with me,” Katniss whispered as the sweet tendrils of sleep slipped, mist-like, over her body.

She felt the warm caress of Peeta’s sigh against her skin, as he whispered his answer.

“Always.”


	20. Outtake - Juniper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Juniper/Gale interlude, with just a little bit of Everlark included, too. ;-) This drabble takes place midway through Chapter 16, just before Juniper confesses her tragic past to Gale beside the pond. I hope you enjoy it. :-)
> 
> Thank you to the readers who told me that you loved this pairing. This chapter is dedicated to you! Hugs!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble was inspired by a word prompt challenge sent to me by my lovely friend and beta, titaniasfics. <3!
> 
> My word prompt:  
> Cheiloproclitic - Being attracted to someone's lips.

**_'Cheiloproclitic'_  **

Juniper stared at the novel in her hands. She’d been attempting to read the same page for over twenty minutes, but her mind was restless. The words wouldn’t register any meaning.

“I forgot to tell you,” Gale said, looking up from the book in his hand.

At the sound of his voice, Juniper’s eyes lifted and focused on the smile across the parlor.

“Boggs announced the profit-sharing idea you suggested to the women in the factory. It seemed like a small gesture to help our workers’ families, but several of them asked him to thank you personally. They wanted you to know it’ll make a difference. Boggs says the morale has never been better. Thanks to you.”

There was such pride evident in the curve of his lips, that she couldn’t help stare. Gale wasn’t a big smiler. It made her heart beat a little faster that she, of all people, could inspire that kind of admiration. It was so different from the other men who’d come before.

“That’s good news,” she answered with a grin, and Gale nodded and returned his attention to his book.

Juniper tipped her head back down, but kept her eyes on the man across the room, with stealth through long, dark eyelashes. He pursed his lips and small lines crossed his forehead from something he read. Even when displeased, Gale’s lips held nothing but fascination in her eyes.

Juniper shivered remembering Nelson’s thin-lipped, roguish smirks that had fooled her into thinking she was special. The conman’s clever, seductive smile that held only deceit. The other men who hadn’t even tried to masquerade their intentions. Some had pretended to be gentleman. Others - like the prison guard and his offer of a bar of soap and a little extra food - with cruel sneers as their demanding lips took everything and gave a pittance in return.

She swallowed and gave a huff. Gale looked up from his book, his eyebrow quirked in question. She rolled her eyes and flipped the page of her novel, as if the story had been the source of her outburst. She flashed a reassuring grin, and her heart skipped a beat when his eyes darted, just for one unguarded second, between her eyes and her lips, before dropping his gaze.

It brought to mind an image of her parents. Even after over two decades together, she recalled how it didn’t matter how busy a day in the store might be, the rest of the world seemed to vanish for them. The way their gaze would travel from each other’s lips, to their eyes, and back to their lips.

Her father, the playful one, would lick his lips and wag his eyebrows in her mother’s direction. The sight of it, and the promise it held, would make her mother bite her bottom lip and giggle a little to herself. Her serious mother, reserved in comparison, would transform into another, almost flirtatious, creature in those secret moments they shared.

Juniper now understood the elusive thing she had longed for. To adore and be adored. To see and feel that private joy. She had wanted someone to look at her lips that way.

She regarded Gale as he read. Her hand smoothed over the velvety azure fabric of the dress she wore, and thought of the other fine garments that had recently been added to the wardrobe upstairs. She thought of the kindness that Gale had shown her. His words of praise, encouraging, discussing all matter of topics as if she were his equal.

She remembered when she’d offered herself to him, not comprehending why he had refused. She knew men well enough to know it wasn’t because she disgusted him. When he smiled at her, even at her most wretched moment, he saw a lady who deserved respect.

But there was a sadness in his smile. She saw how he kept the attraction he felt for her so carefully guarded. Such a gentleman. She licked her lips and savored the thought of him. Could he taste it, too? On the tip of his tongue, a hint of something just out of reach?

It wasn’t the few feet of polished hardwood floors that separated them. It was a world of hidden regrets and inadequacies. Juniper knew hers, but what kept Gale from letting anyone get too close?

She swept a strand of hair behind her ear. Instead of letting her hand fall back to the novel, it continued up and back until her fingers grazed the delicate silver hair comb. There had been a lost chance at love for him. But a man like Gale would have had many other opportunities. No, it wasn’t a past sweetheart. Juniper suspected he carried some other demons on his back. She knew how that felt.

She suddenly wanted to tell him everything about herself. Every painful and sordid thing. If she took that risk, revealed it all, would his lips curl down in disgust? Or would her courage free him to open up in kind? It was time to find out. To break down the walls of dark secrets that stood between them. And see what was left once all was stripped bare.

“Take a walk with me?” Juniper asked, closing her novel. “It’s such a beautiful day.” She bit her bottom lip waiting for her answer. Giving just a hint of flirtation. She knew if she came on too strong, he would close himself off from her behind a curtain of propriety.

Gale closed his book and set it on the side table. “If you’d like.”

He gave her that sad, but pensive smile. She saw the way the corner of his mouth ticked up on the left side, in the fashion she’d grown familiar with. But this time his eyes traveled from her lips, up to her eyes, and back down to her lips again. Juniper couldn’t help giggle, just a little, as she rose from the sofa.


End file.
